Discontinued E P I S T L E S
by HanaChan186
Summary: Three years since the Sky Battle, peace was finally reigning over all or was it? Vaan and Penelo returned to Rabanastre. There they found Larsa invited by a letter, but the inviter did not show up. In haste to reunite with his friend, Larsa asked them for shelter. A lick and a promise, and they let he move into their house, unknowing the scheme laying the seem-harmless decision.
1. Prologue

**Author Note:**

First, I want to thank the game developers of Final Fantasy XII for the good game and my inspiration for this story. As any other fan fictions, many characters and settings in this are taken from the game, but a few are somewhat the work of my invention, so I hope to retain proper rights on them. Also I want to thank my sister for proofreading and addition to my work; I knew it was not an easy job.

Next, this is what I think could explain some flaws in the story of Final Fantasy XII and what I believe would happen after the story ended. But, nothing is impeccable, so if I have some detects of my own, feel free to show me, and I'd love to hear other's opinion and ideas as well.

One more thing I don't know if I should put it here, it's about Japanese honorific, namely suffix -san and -sama. For example, Larsa addressed both Penelo and Ashe with suffix -san, but it's lost in the English translation, but I'll keep it and some other cases also. In case you don't know what they mean, just search 'Japanese honorifics'.

Last but not least, enjoy my writing and thank you for reading it :)

* * *

EPISTLES

– A Final Fantasy XII Fanfiction –

_Over the course of history, Ivalice has always been in a great struggle of dominions between great empires and kingdoms. In my time, it was Rozarria in the west, and Archadia the east. Circa year 704 the east empire made the first step in her westward march consuming two kingdoms – Nabradia and Dalmasca – in the hellfire of war. However, in year 706 as the fleet of Bahamut, Lord of the Sky, under command of the then Emperor executed the last step in her march; arose the unexpected: her advancement was hindered by Dalmascan insurgents in the Sky Battle above Rabanastre. With her commander died with honor in battle, Archadia soon fell into a cease-fire with Dalmasca – the proof of an undeniable defeat, yet also the dawn of a new era. _

_Three years after the Battle, a going from the tall tower I made in pursuit of an answer. What was the very cause of his doing? A desire for power or a devotion to a united Ivalice? A deed of vengeance or an act of love? The further it discloses the more puzzled I become. Yet it escaped me, the irretrievable time. The whole Ivalice is still slumbering in peace. A peace hanged by a single hair of a chocobo's tail… _

_ First part of the twelfth account in Rareza Memoria  
From the Royal Library of House Solidor_

* * *

**Prologue**

Month of Gemini, year 709 Old Valendia  
Rabanastre – the Royal City of Dalmasca

Penelo looked up the Royal Castle. A half of the city was still slumbering in the castle's dear embrace. Its tall towers pierced through rosy dawn sky. Only absent gazes of goddess statues answered her look. She turned away to leave then glanced back once more as if someone called out for her, only to see the slight bow of the messenger which caused her to nod awkwardly in return.

As he was straightening his back, the messenger secretly appreciated the maiden standing before him. Her golden hair was tied back in two long plaits. She dressed in dancer attire – pink baggy pants and a fitted top exposing her bare midriff. His gaze absently anchored at her mid-torso for seconds, and disappointedly at a bag of foodstuffs held in front of her chest. The bag concealed upper part of her belly and her belly was so beautiful that it caused him to wonder what sort of affairs she had with the judge for whom he worked as a go-between.

Were Penelo a clairvoyant, she would blush at his thought and embarrassedly clarify their relationship. Actually it was not the judge but his master whose letter she had been longing for. In twist of fate, she was befriended by the fourth son of the late Archadian emperor; and ever since they were corresponding until she had to leave Rabanastre for adventures with Vaan - her childhood friend. And when she returned, the very first thing she did was to write him a letter.

Her pen friend was never a poor correspondent. However, a period of time passed without his reply, and visitation of the castle was her daily chore during that time which was long enough for Penelo to feel troubled. Now with awkwardness of continual bothering added to her anxiety, going back was her best conclusion, but coming back would be for tomorrow.

People poured and filled in the once-empty lanes. A busy day was beginning. This was Rabanastre, the capital, the liveliest and the biggest of Dalmasca. Penelo went strolling along cobbled streets with her head low as if she was trying to tuck it into the bag. The tangy smell of starfruits crept into her nose reminding her of the excitement that she had when she encountered them in Muthru Bazaar, but the next thing came to her mind was how things completely contracted to her expectation.

_Penelo-san!_

A gentle voice wafted across warm air of the Royal city, yet it was likely just her imagination. That person could not be here, and it should be thus. For how she could bump into him crossing the road like common folks? He was an emperor now...

Penelo sighed and looked up the sky. Blue as ever. Little clouds scattered at the horizon disclosing clear azure sky. A typical beautiful day of Galtean peninsula. The thought that he may be looking at the same sky as she was now made it appeared brighter.

_Isn't it wondrous how we're spreading over the land still gazing at the same sky? Whenever I look up at the sky, I feel happy that we are under the same sky._

He once told her so. Penelo beamed at the thought, but her smile did not last long as a pedestrian collided with her. A cry of surprise was her sole reaction before the man walked away. A curse for her carelessness stayed in her mind a little after his shadow had gone. She stooped down to pick all the fruits and breads and Cockatrice meats that scattered by the collision. Walking shoes and boots passed her and her precious starfruits, but against the currency, a pair of leather boots was approaching her. She met a gloved hand while stretching for a starfruit, Penelo turned up but before she could say a grateful word, what she saw caused her unable to utter anything but his name.

"Larsa-sama!" cried she.

He replied with a tender smile and offered a hand to help her stand up. Behind him was his protector. Opposite to his master's small frame, the protector was a big, brawny man. He was holding her breads which gladly were warped in thick paper. Penelo could easily make out the scar across his left brow. The man she once knew as Basch now was an Archadian Judge called Gabranth. He wore close-cropped hair and black judge armor (without his helmet and cape so that he would look less conspicuous).

Penelo was whispering his name in her mind, but she had second thoughts and exchanged it into a common expression of amazement. "What a coincidence!" she uttered as she retrieved her bread from the judge, "what're you two doing here?"

"Could it be fortuitous that you're acquainted with a tavern by the name of The Sandsea?" asked Larsa.

Of course she was. The Sandsea was a popular tavern in Rabanastre, especially with hunters and sky pirates. Moreover, she was going in its direction.

"Excellent," he replied contentedly with her positive answer which met his expectation, and turned to his protector, "I shall proceed hereafter in company with Penelo-san. You may return to the Royal Castle with her lady Ashe."

"For I sue for a cessation of my presence as a third wheel," he added with a playful smile.

"Yes, my lord," Gabranth said, giving a shallow bow. He receded, but turned back, as if he forgot something, and added, "for I, too, sue for a cessation of my presence as a third wheel."

Before Penelo could express her bafflement and Larsa his protest to the remark, the judge had dissolved into the crowd. The young emperor whispered some inaudible words. A warm blush rose to his cheeks which he turned away to hide.

"Let us go," he said and segued into their walking.

Still his flush acted as a rush pushing his fleeting feet striding past Penelo. Until it quite cooled down (and he remembered that he did not know the way to the Sandsea), he reduced his speed to the extent that his position barely changed. She caught up and they started to walk side by side.

Penelo observed him; the first time since their coincidental meet. He had grown—a little taller than her now. He wore the same style as the first time they met—dark tunic over long-sleeved shirt and breeches under thigh-high boots. His signature collar brooch, which was in shape of two serpents coiling, was flapping in soft breeze. She noticed a new black coat perching atop his shoulder. An addition to his maturity.

"So what're you coming Sandsea for?" she asked.

"Oh, I have an appointment there."

_Who could it be_, she wondered, but decided not to ask. This could be top-secret. _It's likely Al-Cid._

"Beautiful day, isn't?" he remarked, stretching his arm to touch the sky. Sunlight played on his silk sleeve and wind flirted with his black shoulder-touching hair.

"I hope that your plan went beautifully as the day," he turned to look her in curiosity.

Penelo wrote him about her plan, not revealing anything special. She wanted it to be a little surprise for him and would be more than happy to show off her accomplishment. Unfortunately, her plan was not even close to a success. She shook her head in reply.

"Then may Sor be with you as he was with me," he bid.

"So you meant you achieved your goal," she uttered out loud, "what was it?"

"I disregard it as a goal, but I'm glad."

He ran his fingers across his chin in contemplation. "My reply letter has not yet to arrive?"

"Not yet, but when you're here, why don't you just tell me?" she suggested; her honey eyes gleamed in eagerness.

"That'd ruin your delight of disclosing my letter, I'm afraid," he resumed his stroll, then with a mysterious smile, he looked at her eyes and added, "you will have to wait and see it for yourself."

It was his catchphrase; Penelo felt a mixed feeling of both love and hate for it. Larsa loved to keep his secret, and he did not mean ill by it. She giggled stealthily.

_Time may have changed many things, but in his heart, he's still the same Larsa._

"Since 'tis hours before my appointed time, we could have a drink in the Sandsea where you could relate your adventures in Orladia," he suggested, and obviously, Penelo gladly agreed.

Her braids and his coat sleeves were fluttering in wind together as they were strolling. Wind carried mild fragrance of Galbana lilies; and it smelled clearer than usual and blended with another scent—a warm and woody, or perhaps her mood was just playing with her sense. She just knew that it was pleasant, and it was spring.


	2. I-1 Unexpected Turnabout

**PART I – First Letter of Invitation**

_Like a wild snake stalking his prey, I hid myself under the shadow of Ranabastre. By all rights, I ought not to be here now, and my doings will dig a hole for me and him to go down. Who will rise or it'll be a dead fall for us both? We will have to wait and see. _

_Second part of the twelfth account in Rareza Memoria_

* * *

**1\. UNEXPECTED TURNABOUT**

Vaan awoke late today. His head was light; his throat dry. To his surprise, he overslept, and to his greater surprise, straight without any interruption such as someone shouted him to get up.

By 'someone', he meant Penelo. She would wake him up midmorning. Then he would have breakfast, which she had prepared when he was sleeping; get himself ready for his daily chores at Migelo's shop while Penelo went to the theatre for her practice. Mundane days in Ranabastre, just like before he got under way. Actually there were a few differences like they need not scrimp and save for an airship, but it was basically the same.

_All of this was because of her plan._

Everything started in a day like any other. They were roaming in Moorabella and ran into Hurdy, an old friend of theirs. He repeated what he heard about a new theatre in Rabanestre and was coming back there for a chance of performing in a real stage. From that very moment, Penelo was psyched about the same idea. She had been practicing for her performance. How could he say no to her enthusiasm?

Vaan sat up arduously. His bed was not a real comfort, but it was enchanted to draw and bind any backs. His fingers rubbed against the coarse linen bed sheet reaching for his shirt and vest hanged near the bed head. The rabbit drab wool tick sagged under his weight as he bended down for his greaves and sollerets. He upturned his wide collar once more time to make sure it would stand up. It might be a common morning of a common life with common folks; still Vaan would never satisfy to appear common. When he assured himself ready for a new day, he made his appearance outside.

He pulled back the tasseled portiere to reveal Kytes sitting at dining table and Migelo standing nearby. Glaring light streamed through mullioned windows and door. The mahogany birch table appeared to gleam as beams of light glided its smooth and vacant top surface. Its emptiness was pleading for a question that was wandering in his head, perhaps from very moment he woke up. Before he wondered out loud, Kytes asked it for him.

"What's Penelo doing?"

"I have no idea. She's been off to the bazaar. Hasn't come back, it seems," Migelo shook his head, his floppy ears turned along his head. Vaan did not know why, but he enjoyed Migelo's four ears fluttered around whenever he shook his head.

It was uncommon for bangaas to have blue skin like Migelo. Despite that and his wide round brown eyes, every other espects of Migelo was the usual of his kind: long snout, scaly skin, and long droopy ears.

"Kytes, we don't have all day to wait for her," he said with his usual mellow manner.

"I know, Migelo, but I can't work with an empty stomach either," cried Kytes.

"Now, now," the old bangaa took two gold coins from the pouch around his waist, "take this and have a quick bite at Sis Kebab House."

The boy jumped happily at Migelo's offer. He smiled at Vaan when he saw him lumbering out his room.

"Morning, Vaan. Dunno if it's good, but today we could have kebab for breakfast," he said.

His green eyes beamed with joy; his arms swung under his wide sleeves as flags fluttered in breezes. From his eagerness anyone could guess that it was certainly something, and it was likely good. It came as no surprise to Vaan, especially when Penelo's cooking had been quite unpalatable recently.

"What about Penelo?" asked Vaan, "where's she?"

They both shook their heads.

"Maybe she's still rambling in Muthru Bazaar shopping and forgot the time," Kytes suggested.

That was unusual for Penelo to be absent-minded. It was Vaan who often got carried away and it was her who had to lecture him over and over on that matter. He decided that it was worth looking into; and this was clearly a better option than running errands for Migelo's shop.

"Okay, I'll go find her."

"Hey, I'm going with you," Kytes shouted after.

"No, Kytes, you stay here helping Migelo."

"Don't think you can fool me, sail away and have all the fun by yourself again!"

It occurred to him that the boy was still holding a grudge against him for leaving him and going adventures; and that ancient departure happened two years ago.

"Of course not, all my stuffs in the room. I'm not going anywhere," he insisted.

His sincerity convinced Kytes, and things settled. Vaan would go searching and come back when he found Penelo. Once in a while, especially when nothing exciting happened, Vaan thought back to Rabanastre and folk he left there, he did feel bad for leaving Kytes.

Like many others street urchins, Kytes lost his family in the war between Dalmasca and the Archadia Emipre. Migelo took him under his wing, and they – he, Penelo, and Kytes – had been living together since then.

_The war_, he thought as he scanned the busy street of the bazaar for a trace of Penelo, and recalled how hard they fought to reclaim Dalmasca. Their Dalmasca. _Now things looked like it never existed. _

Dalmasca of the present was not bleak and poor as it once was. No fear or hatred for the Empire in her eyes. It had just been three years and winter of enmity came to end and spring of amity was blooming. _Is it really this simple?_

Vaan looked after a group of Archadian travellers. He could easily make them out for their long-sleeved coats and tight pants which stood out from Dalmascan traditional cropped or short-sleeved vests and wide pants. They blended into the crowd as they were here from the beginning of the time.

The sharp floral smell of a near perfume stand pulled him back to where he was. His throat was itchy. He left hastily, forgot to drink. He threaded his way to a fruit stall where he could find a succulent fruit to quench his thirst.

"Huh? What'd you say?" a voice screeched.

Vaan turned to where the voice came from. There he witnessed a repeated and irritating scene unfolded in front of him. A gentleman, an Archadian gentleman to be precise, was leaning against the display of a trinket stalls. The man poked his finger into the display and smudged it around before finally lifted it up with a necklace draped over it.

"300 gil? This silly Dalmascan-style thing?" he yelled, and tossed the beads in the poor merchant's face. "Wasting my time," he concluded, and strutted away.

Vaan put a coin on the stall to pay for his starfruit, and moved on down Muthru bazaar. Carefully, he bumped into the Archadian man, and uttered a simple 'sorry' while quickly pushed his way through the crowd. Vaan found a cover behind a tall weapon stall whose he was a regular. The bag of coins felt heavy on his hand and that stupid 'gentleman' had not even a faintest idea that he lost it.

The man could still be seen from where he stood. He nibbled the starfruit and waited patiently for his pouty face when he realized his pouch was gone.

He approached another shop, and was ready to haggle over another trifle. When his eyes anchored on his next target, he bumped into a boy. The boy glanced at him with a fierce look and walked away without a word. Something awoke in the man. Perhaps fire of the glare ignited some senses in him. He reached down his waist where the bag of coins was supposed to be. No need of a thorough thought, he immediately shouted at the boy.

"You there, stop!" he yelled.

Without turning back, the young boy flew as ghosts were chasing him and the man was busy pursuing him in Vaan's disbelief. He should have been glad that someone would bear the blame for him, but the guilty conscience would not let him get away when someone else locked in dungeon for his crime. Vaan hesitated for one or two beats then ran after his conscience.

He hurtled towards the boy, seized his wrist and whirled to an alley between two stalls – a shortcut known only by a few. There they disappeared and the poor gentleman could never see them again.

The alley was dark and narrow. Vaan barely dragged the boy. He could sense once and then the young lad missed a step, perhaps to avoid puddles of last night rain, and would not go on if was not hauled ahead. At last light stroke warm on his face. They reached the bridge connecting to East End. Vaan stopped and assured himself they had lost him.

The boy stooped down and gasped for air. A few strays of bistre hair were panting in his breath. His face hid under the brim of his black cap. Vaan found it funny; he rarely saw a man wore this sort of hat in Rabanastre.

"You okay?" Vaan looked at him worriedly.

Fast as a snake, the boy lunged forward and snatched his bag of coins.

"Hey!"

"So, it was after this," he smirked and jigged the bag around, "that Imperial man was chasing."

"Give it back," Vaan reached for the pouch but the boy leapt back before he could touch it.

"I was wondering why you've been so kind and save me," he turned his back to Vaan shielding it against him while checking its content. "But for your contrition," he smiled at Vaan and offered his stolen bag back, "you're not a villain."

His smile had an arcane soothing affect on Vaan, or perhaps it was because he returned his bag.

The boy looked young, perhaps around thirteen or fourteen. Vaan felt a surge of hot blood burst to his face when he thought that he was swirled around by this shorty. It doubled as he realized that this was not the first time he had been tricked by a shorty. And it tripled as he noticed this one dressed very similar to the previous: dark tunic over long-sleeved shirt and breeches under knee-high boots.

Vaan retrieved the bag with his gaze anchoring at the youngster.

"Wait, the bag –" he weighed it by the other hand. The feeling was somewhat lighter.

"Oh, I've taken what I deserve," he said in an epicene voice, "one-half."

He also smiled but it did not work this time. But before Vaan could put his hand on him, a beautiful woman ran towards them and grabbed his target.

"O Razj, for Faram's sake, I found you at last." While they were still looking at her bewilderedly, she hauled Razj the boy away. "You have to be back quickly."

"W-Why?" he barely muttered.

"O my dear, Nico went nuts. You have to talk to him."

They both left Vaan with a half of the bag and 'What the –" was all he could utter. It all was bizarre, however, he had better thing to do than to stand here and reflect. He looked into the bag of his reward, counted it coin by coin. 1,500 gils, no mistake. Not bad, though it was just a half of what he supposed to get. In fact, it was enough to feed him and Penelo for two weeks or so.

_Penelo…_ He sighed and dismissed the idea of going to Muthru bazaar. Unless he wanted to pay the prison a visit, he would not come back there for a while. Moreover, Vaan sensed no sight of Penelo at the bazaar.

He wiped the sweat from his tanned face. The sun was blazing above top. His shirt felt wet and sticky. The hot and sultry summer of Dalmasca was approaching. The short rain last night did nothing more than add a few puddles in where sunlight could not reach and humidity to the already muggy air. He could not see but imagined his blonde hair was bounding together. He was sweating buckets. Better go back to Migelo's Shop to shelter from the harsh sun.

Vaan looked up the sky. He recalled the time when he was standing on this bridge dreaming of becoming a sky pirate, of adventures and daring expeditions. Sweet old memories flooded his mind. How he ruined his very first job and sent himself to dungeons; how he met his friends and enjoyed traveling with them and how he came across that kid. Not that he was mad at him for concealing his identity, even though a lie was still a lie. What he really concerned was whether it was his only deception. How many things did he actually hide beneath his angel face?

_There's even a rumor…_

He shook his head as if it could shake the thought aside. Now he could do nothing; what should, or should not, be done, had been done.

The familiar green sign of Migelo's Sundries emerged from distance. Kytes rushed to his side and greeted him.

"Vaan, right timing! Here," he handed him a cockatrice sandwich from Sis Kebab House – his favorite. Plat bread wrapped around hot cockatrice kebab with shredded vegetables, pickled and cheese sauce.

Vaan took and munched it right away and felt heaven. He had not had even a bite since waking up.

"Yummy, right?" Kytes grinned. Vaan could hear an urgent request from his smile. It went something like 'please tell Penelo to stop cooking,' but he turned away.

"Now we have lots to do," said Kytes, "today's a busy day."

Then he started to gab about errands of that day. Like a punishment for ignoring his request, Kytes had gone continuously on chores Vaan had to complete for a period of time that seemed interminable.

The job was nothing special in any aspects. Fetch and unload cargos, arrange goods, deliver stuffs, or run any errands that Migelo asked. They left him with fewer works as possible. For anyone understood that a renowned sky pirate as Vaan would not be glad to run around for chores. Yet it did not much in assuaging his boredom, and Dalmasca was ridiculously peaceful. He could not find a single mark or hunt that would help him kill time.

_This listlessness… When will it end?_

Vaan gazed up the cathedral of Rabanastre stretching against purple sky. Even from faraway he still could see the corpse of Sky Fortress Bahamut landing next to the cathedral. Last arrays of a day softly illuminated the whimsical arches and four round décor engraved with symbol of Dalmasca. They looked like four big eyes looking over whole city. A giant bell tower stood upright in middle of the cathedral. It had stood there for centuries in rise and fall of Dalmasca and in her wedding and blessed her happiness with its tolls. He too attended her wedding, standing among cheering crowds. Back then he did not give it a thought.

_What's wrong with me_, he wondered, _why did I keep thinking back to the past lately?_

When he came back, the sky was murky. Again Kytes rushed to his side and greeted him, but this time in an alarming voice. "Vaan! You must stop Penelo!"

His mind ran for possibilities and stop at one. A feast it seemed. So it meant she was chosen.

"Come on, Kytes, just once, if you found anything hard to nibble, I'd help you," he said thumping his chest.

"Penelo went nuts. You have to talk to her."

He scowled at the expression. "So what's wrong?"

"She goes into a crazy shopping spree," Filo, best friend of Kytes, stepped out and giggled at him, "asked Kytes to move to your room and fit his room into a study. Can't wait to see it."

Kytes glowered at her. Actually he would love to see it too, but not if he was shoved into Vaan's room. He could not take his eyes away from the cherry desk that was just carried an hour ago into his former room.

"Red smooth touch cherry wood with refreshing scent, mechanically expandable top surface, prime leather-covered writing space, and built-in easel for reading," he mumbled.

"Wow, you sound like a furniture merchant," sneered Filo.

"I've kept an eye for that desk for months, but it's so expensive," he turned to Vaan, "a pretty gil, I'd say."

Vaan did not mind the desk. Penelo had every right to spend as she wished, though he was curious where on sky she got all that money. But what was with Kytes moved to his room? Did the heat get into her head?

At the moment he stepped past the doorstep, a sudden urgency to slow down flooded him as if he was warped into another space. A foreign space, alien, totally different from the house he lived. Men was scattered around putting this and that into its place. Penelo thanked them for good job before they all took their leave.

"Hey, Penelo–" called Vaan. He was stunned when he notices the tall figure standing beside her.

"Vaan!" She welcomed him with a big grin, but it did not reach him. His mind was anchored on the armored man next to her.

"It's been a while," the man said. He was real and alive.

Before Vaan spat a reply, soft footsteps wafted across the room. An old face emerged from upper floor; Migelo followed closely behind.

"It's been far too long," he said with his hand on chest.

"You're the last face I'd expect to see," grunted Vaan.

He blinked at Vaan with innocence; Penelo winced with annoyance.

"Larsa-sama, take a look at the room, will you?" she drew him into the room, her arm linked with his.

"Oh," he gasped, "you don't have to..."

Vaan peeped inside. The room was filled with floral and grassy smell despite fully open windows. She changed the stained curtains into embroidered ones. Light and wind poured inside from window. Sitting in front of it was the desk and bookshelves behind. On the other side was a daybed with mother-of-pearl inlay. He gulped. This pretty could cost all their last year earnings. What made Larsa so generous, he wondered, but on second thoughts, it did not make sense if Kytes would move to his room.

Penelo was chirping about how comfortable the silk bed sheet and Imperial quilt blanket was, then turned to the expandable desk, and a tea table nearby.

"You and Gabranth advised me to talk to Migelo-san because of this." Larsa observed, "'tis regrettable that my stay is to be ephemeral."

"Wait," Vaan cut in, "what 'stay'?"

All three shifted their wide eyes to him, especially Penelo, she stared at him as if she was asking where on sky he was, unknowing anything. "Oh," she cried as she recalled they had said no word to him or Kytes.

"Well, that's a long story…"

Everything flashed back shortly after Penelo and Larsa entered the Sandsea. They sat on the seats upstairs looking over all was beneath.

"Long time not see, Penelo," the waiter blinked at her and widened his eyes when he noticed the man with her was not Vaan. "Wanna try our new tea?"

"Really? When did Tomaj start to serve tea in a tavern?" asked Penelo.

"When he started to dress up like that." He pointed his chin to the man standing in front of the counter beneath. He was combing his hair with his fingers. In his arms was a big bouquet. His metal leather vest could be seen shiny even from upstairs. "He fell for a girl in a tea shop, I heard."

"He even wears an aphrodisiac scent," he whispered, shrugging his shoulders.

"He appears joyous to me," Larsa observed. He asked the waiter about the new tea, but gained little information. Nevertheless, he decided to have a cup of Amille tea and the same drink pair with candied cactus fruits for Penelo.

They had a good chat. Penelo was happy with the tea. It had a floral and fruity scent, a hint of bitter in flavor and sweet aftertaste. She was happier with the candy, and his consideration, still.

"I thought you departed solely for expeditions," he remarked after Penelo finished her story about their sneak-up into Baron's manse.

"That was how I hoped, but sometimes Vaan got too excited. I know thieving is bad, but it could be worse if I'm not around to look after him," she justified as she was standing at the Bar and Larsa was the magistrate.

He put his hand on hers and they exchanged a smile. Penelo went on with some good adventures, jerking bad things out. Larsa involuntarily glanced down the door. There Tomaj tuned last details before going out.

"He looks like going out for a date," Penelo commented.

"Date…" Larsa whispered; there was a tint of nerves in his voice.

They fell into a moment of silence. Larsa dropped his look to his cup on the table. Warm steam rose up his face; and a thought flashed across his mind. Whether this be considered a date he wondered. And should it be, did he dress too cursorily? But it was the clothes that he felt comfortable in, and it was the clothes that he wore in their first meet.

He looked up briefly and caught a glimpse of Penelo staring at him with curiosity. She was surprised to see he shied away from her gaze. Penelo was pondering why he had to meet Al-cid here in Rabanastre. _Could there be another reason?_

Clang sound of the brass bell downstairs broke the quiet. Penelo had heard about this. It was a new promotion added recently. They called it 'Noon Happy Hour'. _Noon…_

"Oh, I'm late," cried Penelo realizing it had been noon already, "I have to go. See ya later."

She left in hurry. Larsa had not really had a chance to bid her goodbye. Thus it was no surprise to him that she forgot her grocery bag. He asked a waitress to store it in their cellar for better preservation until his friend returned. Then there he sat alone patiently waiting for his inviter.

A person that never appeared.

Penelo went back the Sandsea in late afternoon. Red soft light of setting sun doubled her blush cheeks. She standing in front of the tavern's widely open door hesitating. How embarrassed of her to leave her grocery bag, but she decided not to waste food even though some of it might be spoiled at that moment.

She stepped into the tavern. Her eyes rolled upwards where she sat hours ago; then she anchored her attention on the opposite chair where a familiar figure seating. He sat still alone gazing at distance. A worried, solicitude even, expression was on his face. She ran upstairs to his side and put her hand on his shoulder.

"Larsa-sama, what's going on?" she asked.

Before he could muster a reply, Basch came in. He stood up in anticipation of his protector.

"Did you receive any…"

But his answer was merely a shake of head.

"Forgive me, my lord. There was no correspondence and nothing new from the Margrace either."

He paused. Despite his helmet, Penelo could guess Basch was looking down his feet, then headed up and spoke. "The cortege is ready, Excellency."

"No, Gabranth, I shall not be coming back till I see… that person," he sat down and shook his head. "Please inform Ashe-san that I'll be staying at the Royal Castle some more days."

"Excellency, I do believe that you recall your last stay. I'm afraid it's too dangerous."

"It's unlikely to reoccur, and I could withdraw once you found a secure accommodation."

"Excellency," Basch sighed. As usual he never succeeded in changing his young but determined lord's mind, and that was exactly where Penelo jumped into.

"How about staying at my place?" she suggested.

And that was how it led to their current situation.


	3. I-2 An Irresistible Opportunity

**2\. AN IRRESISTIBLE OPPORTUNITY**

Vaan rolled over. It had been three times and he had to be careful so that he did not touch Kytes or he would kick him. He never knew that Kytes could be violent while he was asleep. Obviously, he could not know since they only slept together the first time few days ago. Despite his effort, his arm touched his lightly. Just a soft touch and Kytes gave him a hearty kick.

Vaan got up and looked daggers at Kytes, who luckily was still sleeping. His snoring face steered Vaan to think back to his obsequious nodding face back then when he heard that his room would be made into Larsa's room.

"Get up early for health," he soothed himself, sat up and put on his shirt. The annoying pale stain, which was result of a wine delivery, was still visible on upper right of it, but he got out of the room anyway.

The front room was vacant, unlit and quiet. Only a few rays of light seeping through window slits betrayed the presence of the dim sun outside. His mind was roaming in the empty room unknowing what to do. The first thing came up was turning the light on, but for what, he pondered.

He heard a dull clunk and turned to its source. No need guess, it must be Penelo making the breakfast. He could easily make out the light leaked from kitchen door in darkness. Vaan pushed the door open. Penelo quickly noticed and whirled around.

"Oh, morning Vaan," she said, unexpected it was him; "you got up early today."

"Just can't sleep," he tried to sound tired, but Penelo resumed to her cook. It did not work, and he guessed not much, if not nothing, he could do to change her mind about Larsa's stay.

Penelo was humming an old tune while slicing starfruits. He darted his eyes from the fruits focusing on her face. Her eyes, her lips and her spirit all at once smiled. Just like four days ago. His mind flashed back to the moment she announced that Larsa would stay here for a while.

_C'mon, Vaan, how could I resist such an irresistible opportunity?_

It all revolved around Penelo. First her dancing career, now her emperor-friend, and he started to feel uncomfortable. Actually this was not the first time he felt uncomfortable. As soon as she exclaimed that she would make a comeback as a dancer, he knew that it would not turn out well. _And for what,_ he thought, _a chance to perform before his Excellency_. He felt like creeping into their airship and flying alone.

Again this was not the first time; even he did sneak out in night and almost sailed away. But he found difficulties in some tasks that were done by his partner and an empty, lonely seat next to his in the cockpit. He got back in morning. Penelo welcomed him with a beam of sunshine. His only option was deflation and acceptance to stay in Rabanastre.

"Hey, Penelo, you have a day off tomorrow?" he asked unearthing something more interesting. He pocketed 1,500 gils; it should be more than enough to treat her a fancy dinner.

"So what?" she replied still focusing on the kitchen counter.

"Well," Vaan fell into a sudden pause. He approached her gradually from behind. "y'know, if you have time."

"Why suddenly hesitate, Vaan?" she turned around and found him just an inch away from her. His eye looked into hers. They held each other's look in silence. The whole kitchen was still. Even flame of the stove stopped flickering waiting for the moment, and…

_Bang!_

The door swung open and disclosed an untimely smiling face.

"I bought you parsley and…" his voice diminished as he realized his presence was unwelcoming. "Oh… Your pardon," he was about to turn and leave if Penelo did not ask him to show her what he bought.

The greens were as fresh as Vaan's scowl. This was a typical consequence of a ray of sunshine that struck at wrong time and wrong place. "Oh" Penelo gasped at her revelation, "it's purple cactunas. You'll have to walk to Grand bazaar to fetch 'em."

"I hope that I did not keep you waiting."

"Don't tell me you asked Larsa to do your shopping?" Vaan asked; his scowl still visible.

"Well, I forgot some ingredients so La-Lamont-sama offered his help," she said awkwardly making effort to call Larsa by his alias.

"It's my pleasure."

"No, it's _my_ pleasure to have you going with me to the market."

Vaan swirled around as if by doing so the conservation would end quicker. And imagining 'his Majestic' shopping around with Penelo caused his head to spin.

_Aren't you supposed to be swamped with work? _

He thought as he glanced at Larsa eating his breakfast with them at a leisurely pace. After the breakfast he would go to Faram-know-where and not be back until night, thus Vaan did not see him much.

That was actually a good thing. Not that he hate Larsa, though he could not deny that he was angry at him to some extends; it was more like he did not know how he should treat him. With respect for a neighboring emperor or detestation for an invader king? With friendliness for an old friend or disgust for a remorseless two-face? Whenever he saw his innocent face, it drove him into thoughts that he would rather to avoid like plague. But his friend only stayed for a few days more, and he had to get through dull days in Rabanastre until Penelo had her performance anyway.

Penelo had observed his surly attitude towards Larsa for past few days, and decided to give him a lecture of courtesy in that afternoon. She asked Asma-san – the chief dancer – for an early leave and now on the way back to Migelo's shop making a sudden visitation. Against her expectation, Vaan was nowhere to be found, upped and skipped out on work. Even though his face was not a must at the store, she could not hide her disappointment and turned to her next intent.

The next chore involved the cactus fruits or cactunas which Larsa bought her in the morning. Picturing how silly she would look to take a leave but having nothing to do in particular, and she was happier than ever that she had asked him to stay with them. She was going to make cactus fruit candy called tunas. The sweet purple fruit was perfect for that. She would create an impeccable taste that pleased Larsa and everyone.

In fact, it should please Penelo the most. To Larsa nothing more delicious than fulfilling his role of a monarch and he had bought them, she guessed, just because he knew that she would love them. She loved candies, especially fruity type like tunas; her only problem was that...

"So you really made tunas for La-I mean Lamont," asked Filo, staring curiously at the tunas laid out to dry and cool down.

It was dusk around the time for dinner. Filo often showed up at this time to have dinner with them.

"Why not?" said Kytes, secretly took a tuna for himself, "it's the only thing that Penelo cooks and tastes good."

"But only kids want 'em," she laughed in sudden loud that caused Kytes to slip his hand and almost cost his tuna. Though he might catch the candy in right time, he failed to catch his sweet tooth at what she said.

"He just wants to try because he's never," justified Penelo.

"I know. But you don't think you made too much? Maybe some kids will steal and eat 'em in secret," she sneered at Kytes who was anchoring his awe gaze at the candies and could not look elsewhere.

"W-What? O-Of course only kids would love 'em…"

Kytes darted his eyes away. His brown eyes darkened by a grief crying for the moon; that was also how Penelo felt whenever she saw little, shiny, sugar-coated pieces of colorful fruits. Most of candies are considered for kids in Dalmasca, therefore Penelo was astonished when Larsa offered her some adult candies back then in Bhujerba.

"Yeah. Maybe you and Kytes could have some for me."

Kytes jumped up while Filo turned away at the offer; both replied at the same time.

"Thanks, Penelo."

"Well, I can give them to kids at the Home."

"Whoa, whoa!" exclaimed Vaan as poked his head out of the kitchen door, "what's the noise?"

"Vaan, where have you been all day long?" Penelo blustered; the first sign of her lecture.

"Got something important to do," he replied calmly and met her scowl, "c'mon, at least give a meal before you started. You couldn't read a full act with an empty stomach, right?"

Even though it was not for Vaan, Penelo would still let them dine first as Kytes and Filo would be hungry by then. They set the table; Kytes ran upstairs to fetch Migelo, who was busy doing the accounts. Like yesterday and the day before, she reserved a reasonable portion – just enough – for Larsa who would not be back until night.

"Man he eats just a tad, like a cactite," Filo remarked at the portion left for Larsa.

"But he praised Penelo's cook to the sky," Kytes said in low voice leaning towards Vaan, "she's making too much. _We_ had to eat 'em all. Ya hear me, Vaan?"

"Nah, she just needs some more practice. Remember when we were in Lemures?" he replied after finished his meal in Kytes's irk and awe.

"And you remember how long it was?"

"Really? Does my cook taste that bad?" Her voice came from behind and startled them. She was back from the kitchen with fruits for dessert.

Penelo's cooking life had been through ups and downs. Three years ago, when she took her first steps of dancing, her cook was inedible. After some accidents, they flew a first real adventures; no one could explore with an empty stomach, also no better chance to hone her cooking skills, so Penelo decided to cook for them. She improved to the point that Kytes and Filo would savor. After a long time without any practice, it now sunk into gloom and depression, and she started to worry.

However, recently she was lifted up to her once-lost confidence. At first she dreaded to think how Larsa would say about the current awful state of her cook. But all dispersed like mist in morning at the moment he beamed at her and observed that it was as excellent as usual. And his credibility was something that Penelo never put in doubt.

"Maybe he sees something that we don't in your cooking," Kytes guessed trying his hard to finish the last spoons; once having done eating, he continued with a rueful voice, "my dream of studying magicks aboard in Archadia is done. To think the food there would be like this, I'll never put my foot on Archadia."

Penelo sat with her chin rested on hand wondering what she had done wrong to her cook. Kytes's notion did not satisfy her, though it appeared to be the only explanation assuming the both were truthful. The dishes and bowls were now cleaned up. A tray of tunas and a teapot and cups had been laid out on dining table.

Migelo resumed to the accounts; Filo went back to the Home taking some tunas to gift the kids. Now only Vaan, Kytes and Penelo left; they were having tunas and mal cookies with some Archadian tea which did irritated Vaan for a while. Not that he had any particular interest or grudge against sweets and tea, but why Archadian? Couldn't she get something Dalmascan? He felt stuck, not talk or eat or drink. Like a patient wildsnake, he was waiting for a chance.

There was something he needed, he must tell Penelo, and like any secrets, it needed be told in private. Kytes was enjoying his tunas. Careless and clueless about what he was hindering. In his craving for sweetness, he lost track of time.

"Hey, Kytes, isn't it time for you to hit the sack?" Vaan asked after a long wait that he finally got enough.

"Mm that late mmph already," he said chewing more tunas.

"Don't talk while eating, Kytes," Penelo admonished him like a mother to her child, and turned to Vaan. "He seems overjoyed. Let him be."

He just nodded. Every second felt an hour to him. He could hardly sit still and restrain the urgency to scream at the top of his lungs. The room was silent except for Kytes's munch until a creak of main door broke the queer quiet. Larsa had been back from whatever he was doing and added another obstacle to Vaan's intent. Opposite to Vaan's frustration, Penelo greeted him with a smile and went fetch his dinner.

His dinner was paucity, but it had little to do with her cooking skills. He ate little. Penelo guessed it was how royalties would act; though she worried about his growth. So she bought the best ingredients that she could afford and had to admit her wallet would be empty by now if no provision came from Basch. But it all well spent, and his praise bolstered her self-assurance.

"Could I have some tunas?" he asked after finishing his meal, "I believe Ashe-san would love them."

"Of course," she gladly approved, "I'll pack them nicely."

The thought of eating the same candies with an emperor and a queen excited Kytes. Never in his life Penelo's cooking taste so divine. But a weird brew of emotion was stirring in Vaan's guts. It was a mixture of annoyance, which had been there after dinner, and newly formed disbelief and amusement to imagine Ashe enjoying candies. Not likely, he shook his head, and then he caught sight of Larsa glancing at him with a grin. His brow furrowed.

_Why does he look me like that?_

"Oh, and tomorrow I shall dine with Ashe-san and Gabranth. You needn't cook for me," he paused and with another playful smile at Vaan, continued, "I don't think you should cook at all. Isn't it, Vaan-san?"

"Give them my regards," said Penelo gazing curiously at Vaan who was scraping the back of his head at Larsa's remark.

"And me too," added Kytes.

"I've found Magick Liberi, Book IV. Would you care to look at it, Kytes-san?" he offered, presented Kytes one of thick books that he was holding.

"Really?"

"Let us go to the study," he said.

Though Kytes did not get why not reading it here, they both retired to the study. Vaan had a glimpse of Larsa smiling at him like a signal; it piqued him as if Larsa could read his mind and knew exactly what he was doing.

Now when he eventually got the intimate mood that he craved for, he squirmed as his arms and legs was tied with ropes and his mouth was stuffed with a dirty gag. He glanced quickly at Penelo who was staring at him in waiting of what he had to say. It was obvious to her considering what happened in the morning.

"So," she broke the awkward silence, "you've something to tell me?"

He took a deep breath. This was the chance. The only chance he could seize and he seized it tightly.

What happened next was a real surprise to Kytes. He cracked the portiere just enough to peep outside.

"Wow! He did ask her for a date," he cried. Realizing it might reveal him, he lowered his voice, "I can't believe it."

"I say he did a better job than I," Larsa remarked sitting on the daybed.

Kytes turned to look at him, asked "you ever asked a girl to go out?"

"No. But I would I had."

Kytes gazed at him wondering which lucky girl he was having in his mind. They said he was three years older than him, but Kytes felt he was much more mature.

"How did you know what Vaan's up to?" he rushed to Larsa's side, his face flushed with excitement.

"By coincidence I saw him reverse a table for two at Elissar."

"Wow! He's really serious."

"How could he miss such an irresistible chance?"

They both looked outside. There Penelo was bewildered, shocked even, by Vaan's invitation. Elissar was a renowned restaurant; therefore of course it came with a price, a rather high one. _Vaan must have lost his mind,_ she thought, however, she agreed.


	4. I-3 Memory

**3\. MEMORY**

Vaan woke up early this morning. In fact, he barely slept last night. After a quick breakfast, which did not content any trace of starfruits in his delight, he left hastily for the Sandsea. The reservation he made yesterday devoured his 1,500-gil prize and beyond. It gutted his pocket. He had to look for a hunt or two to compensate for what he spent. Another reason was he jumped up a bit when he saw Penelo, so it was better not to meet her until the date.

He scratched his head as he perused the billboard. Nothing exciting, but he had to get one or two hunts.

"What made you so craved for a job?" asked Tomaj, standing next to him with his arms crossing. His face looked grim. He wore his typical brown vest, not the fancy leather and metal, in absence of the choking scent.

"Gotta make up for what I spent at Elissar," he replied not taking his gaze off the board.

"Elissar? Meant the restaurant?"

"Um," he nodded, surprising at the barman's strong reaction.

"I tried to book a table the day before but it was full till next month."

"I got lucky someone cancelled their table."

"And a date with Penelo – lucky devil!" cried Tomaj with resentment in his voice.

Lucky? Vaan did not see things this way. He would not have been here if that shorty did not rob him of a half of the prize. "Hey, Tomaj, tell me when you see anything interesting, wouldya?"

"You can trust me," he blinked, "say how are your little em – your little guest?"

"You meant Larsa?"

"Hey," he hushed, "don't say his name." Vaan winced as he continued. "He's been coming here every day ever since, y'know, sitting upstairs waiting for someone. He even asked me to put a note here."

Vaan followed his finger tip to a beautifully handwritten note saying: 'I'm waiting for you.' It piqued his curiosity. If he find this 'you', Vaan could quickly say Larsa goodbye for good. His head tilted slightly. Now he recalled Larsa never told who it was or what business he had with that person. Whoever he was, he seemed very important. His mind was running through possibilities. Al-Cid? If Al-Cid was proven to be missing in Rabanastre, it would be quite a scandal, but this was too poignant to be a message to Al-Cid.

He swiped his nose. Nothing he can do if he even did not know who he was. Thus he left the Sandsea, but he did not make home. He was wandering around gathering information of hunts and treasures until he found himself at Central Plaza. Standing before him was a statue – a monument, to be precise. They rebuilt the fountain and added a statue of a man. His hair poured down past the shoulder hiding half of his face. The lifeless eyes looked down on his.

_Vayne Solidor… _

Under his feet inscribed: 'In memory of our beloved consul whose soul wholly devoted to peace and his people' which Vaan raised a frown upon. Red flame of a Galbana lily was burning under the inscription. Who might think of putting such noble flowers under his feet?His face turned red; his whole body hot as if it was real flame burning and spreading to him. He leant forwards and seized the flower. For a while he was just standing still looking at the flower in his hand. The calming scent of the lily answered his gaze. He whirled around, made his way to the north of the city, where the War Memorial located.

The War Memorial was a wide plaza lined with bushes and palm trees. In its heart rising a soaring pillar with a goddess statue on top. He rolled his eyes upwards to find her arm raising to the sky. On the hand a white bird was taking off. Vaan headed off upper right of the pillar. Two years ago they built a Nalbina Wall on the northeast of the memorial. The site was chosen to face in direction of Nalbina fortress.

Nalbina Wall was a giant ebony flagstone placed to stand in vertical position. On the wall engraved names of soldiers who died in the battle of Nalbina. He caught a sight of a small figure putting a Galbana on the base of the wall. Standing nearby him was Penelo. She said this morning that she would be giving Larsa a tour around the city, and here they were.

Vaan found himself laughing softly. Penelo heard the noise and turned to him.

"Vaan!" cried she, and then Larsa also turned to look at him.

In his arms were more Galbana lilies. A black ribbon was tied around each stem, just like the one Vaan was holding.

"What a coincidence," Larsa said calmly. They walked near to him, but then Larsa stepped back and grabbed Penelo's arm as he sensed a rage in Vaan's eyes. A rage that they did not understand.

"Are you okay?" asked Penelo worriedly.

"Why–" he mumbled at first, and suddenly it broke into a shout, "why don't you just leave this city and let us alone!?"

Vaan whirled and ran away in their bewilderment. Larsa kept gazing at him until his shadow completely disappeared in the distance.

"Um, Larsa-sama, please forgive him," Penelo excused disconcertedly, "we lost too much, you know."

But what could she justify? The war was over three years ago, and there was time Vaan seemed to let bygones be bygones.

However, Larsa just smiled solemnly in reply. He knelt down before the wall and put a flower down. "'Tis something that I am the one to blame," he said gazing at golden letters on it. His gazed was wandering until it anchored to a name that seemed odd. It did not have the golden paint like others, and appeared to be carved after varnishing was done. It read: Reks.

* * *

Run, run, he kept running away. For how long, he did not remember. He just knew that when he finally stopped, threw his back against front door of a mansion with Galbana lily flower beds. The stem of the lily on his hand was broken.

_Big bro… _

He heard sound of the latch lifted and moved aside. The door opened and a man stepped out with watering can in one hand and pruners in the other. He was going to do his daily chore of tending the flowers when he found Vaan in front of his house with absent gaze.

"Vaan!" he called out and startled him, "I didn't expect your visit this early."

He had second thought and added, "what are you doing here?"

"Well, I…"

It was embarrassed to be found in front door of a friend's house and had nothing to say. Fortunately Fidal had grown temperate and thoughtful after the war. He welcomed his presence and did not ask much on how and why he was here. Actually, he was not his friend, but his brother's friend and mentor. When his brother enlisted near the end of the war, he was put in charge of Fidal.

Vaan sat on the doorsteps while Fidal was pruning flower bushes. He glanced quickly at the poor flower in Vaan's hand.

"Visited the War memorial?" asked he in low voice. Vaan nodded.

"Still think about your brother?"

Vaan did not reply; he just gazing down the flowers.

"I know you must feel terrible for what happened. I didn't believe he was a part of the king assassination either. But it's time to put the past behind and move forwards."

He was executed for that, and his name was erased from the Nalbina Wall. It was not just a baseless belief; Vaan knew that his brother did not involve. Even there was no assassination, it was just a trap set by Vayne Solidor to fool people into believe that Captain Basch slain the king by using Captain's twin brother. All was to advance into Dalmasca. However, Vaan had proof of his brother's innocence – a witness, to be precise. Basch is alive. If only he did not have to live under his brother's identity – Judge Magister Gabranth – to protect Larsa. _Protect Larsa? Who the heck is Larsa?_

"Whatddaya think about the rumor? The rumor about Larsa. Is it true he might not be the emperor's son?" asked Vaan, unable to hide his discontent.

"That," he replied, curious at how Vaan always called the present emperor of Archadia by his name, "was dismissed. He showed proof of his lineage."

Then he stood up bringing his gardening tools along heading inside.

"But is that proof true enough?" Vaan rose up.

"If you ask my opinion," he paused, "it looks like he prepared it in case his legality was in doubt."

"Now, my friend, would you like to have a drink with me inside?"

Vaan agreed and followed him inside. The mansion was surrounded with a lovely courtyard. He sat on a small gazebo sniffing wonderful perfume of a garden of flowers and trees. A few hands were tending the plants and greeted Fidal and him. Galbana lilies, eskirs, irises and onions – luxuries not enjoyed by most Dalmascans. Fidal went inside the house and came back with a tray of water, coffee and fruits. When he had recovered himself after the run, Fidal challenged him to a sword fight, a friendly one. Before he got under way, he usually crossed his sword with Fidal and learnt a lot from him. What he learnt was proved to be useful for his adventures.

Fidal took his ox stance; Vaan deployed it as a chance to attack. But the former soldier man made him pay for his haste with a leap and a cut on his wrist. It was purely a practice therefore the swords were not sharpened and Vaan was wearing his gauntlet; still it gave him a sharp pain. He stepped back swinging his sword, he made a mistake in underestimating Fidal. Now he more focused. Attacks, parries and void a slash faster than eyes could follow; only clash of steel signed that their blades touched each other.

The duel would last longer if Fidal's arm was not so hurt that he could not hold the sword tightly. It slipped from his grip when he tried to make an awkward parry, and next think was Vaan's blade tip inched away his throat. He accepted his defeat with a smile: he was overestimated his arm choosing a long two-handed sword instead of the usual saber. They both gasped. It took them seconds to say something.

"Nice swordplay," Fidal remarked rubbing the pain in his right arm.

"You too," Vaan replied. He knew that if it was not for an old wound, which reduced strength of his arm sharply, his win would not be easy. Actually, he might not win at all.

Fidal glanced at his right arm, feeling that he was really old, though he was just in his mid-twenties. The War had deprived him of numerous things.

"Say, Vaan," he hesitated; it was unusual of him to be uncertain, "would you like to go for a hunt?"

A wolf hunt he said, then finally explained that it was not a real hunt. He planned to go investigating a site in Westersand. The thought of a hunt with him was enough exciting to agree; an investigation unarguable.

Vaan borrowed a long sword as he did not want to rush home to fetch his sword, while Fidal armed with his saber. The heaviness of the sword of Order of Knight laid uneasy in his hand.

They made haste to West Gate. There they waited for a friend to come. Vaan did not like waiting. He grew impatiently and kicked a pebble.

"Look like we came early," said Fidal, "sorry for making you have to wait with me, but it can't help. I could not let him wait."

Fidal stepped forwards when he saw a man approaching them. With his both hand on the left of his waist he bowed and scraped before a man approaching them. A full Dalmascan bow, though Vaan did not realize the man, he seemed important.

He nodded at Fidal in reply. His eyes surveyed Vaan quickly. Fidal immediately responded his glance with an explanation, "he's a friend of mine. We can trust him." He turned sharply to Vaan and introduced, "this is Lord Revenas, and he is the… leader of the investigation."

"He appears familiar," Lord Revenas paused, his forehead rested on the finger tip, "was he with Ashe?"

"Yes. He escorted her majesty from the Sky battle."

He glanced at Vaan once more. "Let us go."

Three of them made a most queer crew. Revenas's clothes somehow resembled a Bhujeban Parijana except for weird long slit sleeves while Fidal contrasted with him in similar Dalmascan soldier amour, and Vaan looked like a wayfarer in his foreign wide-collared shirt.

Nevertheless, they grouped together and made their way through giant gate in the west, escaped the city to Westersand. Vast field of golden sand spread to the horizon. Heat surged skywards from dry, bare sand. Vaan started to regret wearing his shirt. He looked at Revenas in curiosity. The wind fluttered his sidelocks of which half flowed straight and half in braid on each side. They will be mistaken for four little droopy ears if his ear was not clearly seen behind them. His white hair was tied up contrasting to Fidal's short dark hair. It was rare for a hume to have purely white hair like viera, like clouds, very eye-catchy, especially when put in contrast with his nicely tanned skin.

"So, what's this trip about?" he asked after they had been far enough from Rabanastre.

Fidal glanced at Lord Revenas; he nodded in approval. "You know that after we signed the Peace-Treaty with the Empire, the Imperial forces began their withdrawal. Their retreat has been completed two years ago," Fidal started to explain, "However, recently an unusual sight of active Imperial soldier had been detected around Westersand. So we decided to look into this matter."

Vaan stunned at what he heard. _Did Basch and Ashe acknowledge this?_ He staggered after Fidal. They were heading to the west sand dunes.

On their way, Fidal and Vaan hunted two wolves and hauled them along as the pretext of going to Westersand. Fidal was glad that he asked Vaan to accompany them. His youth and vigor was helpful, and if something happened to him, it would fall on him to protect Lord Revenas.

Clang of metals wafted in desert hot air. The Imperial black amour could be easily perceived from distance among creamy sand. They hid behind a tall cliff observing. It was a group of a dozen of Imperial swordsman and two magi. The Imperial magi walked slowly mumbling a sort of magick words.

"What're they doing?" Vaan wondered out loud.

"It's no business of yours, I'm afraid," said a voice from behind.

Soon they found themselves surrounded by Dalmascan soldiers. A man dressed in slit-sleeved vest standing upright. "This is the last place I expect to see you," he continued with a gleeful sneer, "for what business High and Mighty Lord Revenas has here, I was wondering?"

"We're here to hunt wolf," answered Fidal; Vaan held a wolf high in front of him to emphasize.

"Been to near border to Ogir-Yensa Sandsea just to hunt wolf? You don't think I'll buy it, do you?" he glanced at Revenas who neglected all this talk and still gazed out at where the Imperials left.

"Let us return," said Revenas finally after a long contemplation, "nothing more to hunt."

"Don't you dare act superiorly to me!" he shouted; his fist clenched, "you're Lord Chancellor no longer!"

The former chancellor glanced back as if he saw the man and Dalmascan soldiers for the first time. "What are you hindering me for?"

"Yes, Jeopas, there's no official rule restrict our presence here," Fidal followed.

"Do not call me by the name," he shouted at Fidal transferring all his fury in one shot, "call me Master Clerk."

Revenas shoved his prominent chin forwards signaling them to go.

"Wait!" the clerk of chancery shouted after them, "something I want to enquire. Won't you give me your cooperation as a citizen?"

They could not refuse the request and had to follow them back to chancery office in Rabanastre. The soldiers swept them into a small room consisting of a table and some chairs. There they sat and were interrogated. Most of the questions revolved around why they went to Westersand and what they witnessed there.

"Like I said before, we've been there to hunt wolves," Fidal repeated. This was his fourth round. At first, Vaan supported Fidal in his story and gave a few exclamations of irritation and protest. But they fell on deaf ears; it was useless talking to them. He could not believe this happened when he was in Dalmasca. He threw his arm skywards and shook his head in disbelief.

Jeopas, the clerk of chancery, was glaring at Revenas furiously. What it took to escape from this unpleasant situation was just words from the former chancellor. Yet he did not say anything, not a word, from the beginning except for a request of a cup of coffee with eskir, which had been brewing for hours. Vaan was both admired and annoyed at his taciturnity.

They had been kept occupied for how long? Vaan could not tell. There was no window; he could not even tell if it was noon or night already.

Jeopas grew more and more impatient at Revenas's silence; finally he could not stand it any longer. "Revenas, you –"

Fidal stood up, steeling himself for the wrath, but suddenly the door opened. A man stepped into and interrupted them.

"Folge?" Jeopas whirled around in surprise, "I think you're at the castle…"

"We'll talk later," he turned to Revenas, "my sincere apology, Lord Revenas," then to the guard, "attend Lord Revenas outside."

Revenas had already stood up and walked towards the door. "I owe you one."

"No, please don't. It's my requital."

They walked away in Jeopas's scorching gaze. His face was red with fury, yet he said no word and let them go freely.

Vaan felt like forever since the last time he gazed upon the sky and breathed the fresh air of freedom. Dusky sky welcomed him with last light of a day.

"I'm sorry for dragging you into this," said Fidal holding their game up, "how about me making up for it?" He called out to Revenas, "Lord Reve, would you care for a dinner with us?"

They had dinner together with hands of the mansion in the long dining table overlaid with white linen. That was the best meal of wolf that Vaan ever had. After dinner, Lord Revenas hastily retired, despite Fidal's effort to hold him back.

"Why does he still refuse to move back to here?" a man blurted as he was cleaning the table, "Lowtown didn't serve as home for his Lordship."

"That's something you won't want to mention again," Fidal advised.

"Wait, I thought," Vaan whispered to Fidal, "this is your house?"

Fidal could not hold his laugh and chuckled, "no, no way,"

This was the estate of House Conrad. His father was killed in midst of war while Revenas was held in Bhujeba. After the war, he came back Dalmasca reclaiming the mansion and his title of the head of chancery. But for reasons which Fidal would rather not to mention, he dwelt in Lowtown instead and allowed them to stay in his mansion.

"My house was taken in the war," said Fidal, "well, that occurred to almost everybody here."

"So what happened to his title?" asked Vaan, "I meant…"

_You're Lord Chancellor no longer!_ He recalled what that man shouted.

Fidal hesitates at first, but in the end he offered Vaan a glass of Dalmascan Barose wine and slowly unfolded the tale.

Six months ago the Emperor of Archadia was attacked while staying at Rabanastre. He survived the assassination attempt; soon they caught the assassin. Things were going well, and suddenly the queen declared that Lord Revenas was under suspicion of involvement in the assault and stripped his title during investigation despite lacking in decisive proof.

"Do you think there's any way to…"

Vaan took his last sip of wine, tasted the floral sweetness lingering in his tongue. Now he saw that Fidal hoped he could persuade Ashe to revoke her decision. Though they might be friends, he did not wish to involve in these politic stuffs.

Fidal perceived the fluster in his eyes. "Sorry for the mess," he apologized again.

"No, it's fine. I think it's time for me to leave."

Fidal saw him to the door. He was an amiable host and friend; Vaan felt bad for unable to help him. _Maybe if I have chance to chat with her…_

The night breeze caressed his hair. He looked up the ever-changing sky: now bright then dark. He drifted home with a mind roaming in clouds. In his lethargy, Vaan vaguely remembered something. He had something very important to do, but he could not name it. Whatever it was, four bells told him he had to save it for tomorrow.

"I'm home," he said with not much expectation anyone would answer him.

But to his surprise, Larsa still awoke and looked at him in relief. "Vaan-san!" He rushed to his side and studied him. When he confirmed that Vaan was unhurt, he grabbed his arm and hauled him out. "Penelo-san is worried about you."

"What's with Penelo?" he asked; brows furrowed in bafflement.

Soon Larsa's delight changed into a frown. "Don't you dare tell me that you forgot your rendezvous with her," he reproved.

It woke up his memory, and he recalled his date. Larsa dragged him along the way to Elissar; his grip was so tight that Vaan felt irritated. He tried to break the hold and found Larsa was stronger than he expected. He struggled and pulled his wrist free in the second try.

"W-What's the matter?" he asked, lunged at his hand but Vaan swung his arm away to avoid.

"What's your problem?" he shouted; a tad too hot in his tone. He walked on slowly and continued with more reasonable voice. "I know what I'm doing."

"Should you be mindful of your doings, you won't keep her waiting for you," he countered, "now go and apologize to her. Never make her worried again."

"What right do you have to ask me of this?"

"Need I privilege to ask you of common courtesy and respect?"

"It has nothing to do with you."

_Oh my_, thought Penelo as she gazed down from the balcony of a private room in Elissar. She thought as she could feel intense heat between the two men. Let them continue and soon the quarrel might transform into a fight. She rushed down in relief of the restaurant waiter. She felt sorry for causing troubles.

It was a brewery of delight and dismay, of luck and jinx. She was waiting for Vaan at Elissar as they had arranged. She wore an elbow-sleeved, fitted top and soft pink skirt. A lacy veil draped around her shoulder. Migelo suggested she dressed formal to her first date; she did not really get what he meant by 'first date', since she and Vaan had dined together numerous times, but she heeded his advice anyway.

Hours and hours, bells and bells, and Vaan had not showed his face. She started to worry if something happened to him, but a more alarming thought crossed her mind: _What if he forgot our meeting?_ It was no surprise if he did; it was not the first or last time. But if she left and he came, not seeing her, it would cause unnecessary worry. Moreover the thought of coming back to see Vaan laying on his bed, having completely forgotten their date was too awkward. She did not know what to do until the restaurant must close, and she must get back.

She bumped into Larsa strolling along the street outside the restaurant. He heard her concern and offered his help. Penelo would be waiting in Elissar while he went home to check if Vaan was there. The Elissar should have closed and she would have to sit in front of its door like a street urchin if he did not ask the manager to allow her stay for a while.

"Easy, Vaan," she ran towards and held Vaan's arm, "what happened?"

"Easy! Why don't you go and tell him to be easy?" he shouted pointing his finger at Larsa who was looking away in dismay, "you don't even know what happened."

Penelo was glad to see Vaan safe and sound but this… surpassed her imagination and ability. She flustered.

"C'mon, don't talk to Larsa-sama like that," she said seriously. Penelo regretted not starting her lesson of courtesy sooner, but better late than never. She just did not see it backfired. Vaan just was not in the mood for any lecture or advice. In her eyes, he read: 'apologize to him', and it was like casting Fire on an oiled chocobo.

"Larsa-sama this and Larsa-sama that. Know what? I'm sick of this!" he shouted and walked away.

"Hey, Vaan!" Penelo called after him, but Vaan did not look back.

He needed some fresh air and that was he did. Vaan was strolling around empty night street until he got full with serenity and space. He came back before the sunrise. Penelo would wake up soon and they could talk intimately. He owed her a sorry for the ruined date, but apologized to Larsa: _Hell no! Sorry for what? For Basch having to be his judge or for the stupid statue of his brother Vayne Solidor? _

He sat on the table on front room waiting. First light of day scattered through narrow slits and no sight of Penelo yet. Something stirred in his guts. He went checking her room. No sight of her either. Could it be she worried and was looking for him?

Vaan made to the door and right moment he touched the door handle and pulled, the door sprang open, almost slapped his face. The face of Larsa the pusher poked out with a smile. His hand held a paper bag of groceries. Behind him was Penelo.

"Morning, Vaan," she greeted him, and he answered with a nod. "I'll go prepare the breakfast," she said, came close to Vaan and whispered, "show him some respect."

Then she walked into the kitchen, let Vaan alone with Larsa for an intimate talk. Vaan sat down, and Larsa sat opposite him. His eyes surveyed Vaan quickly and he spoke.

"I must apologize. Last night, I overreacted."

And that was how the matter ended.


	5. I-4 Work

**4\. WORK**

What to do but accept his apology, especially when his Excellency had condescended to him. Penelo was not mad at him either; therefore Vaan gave no thought for the ruined date.

They had not seen Larsa much for three days. He went out before dawn and only went back after nightfall acting like an eager beaver. Penelo was somewhat unhappy at his absence while Vaan just hoped that he would fly back to Archadia as soon as possible.

Vaan sighed in front of the billboard. He had taken a few hunts already, but all of them were low pay. Still nothing caught his interest.

"Your boy's busy, hah?" said Tomaj winking upwards. His look followed to see Larsa seated on the mezzanine with a young woman. "He's been dating different cutes lately. Could charm the pants off almost everyone, I must say. I heard he and Penelo have been together," Tomaj went on.

But Vaan cut in before he could say more. "What all these clothes about?" he said and glanced at Tomaj's shiny leather vest. That was not to mention a peculiar smell redolent of Galbana lilies on him.

"Job interview," Tomaj replied proudly.

"What? You're fired?" he said out loud.

"No!" he shouted, "the tavern worked well with little supervision, and there's a duty that only me can fulfill."

_In other words, they don't need you_, Vaan thought and somewhat his feeling was mutual. He wanted a work that thrilling, exciting, a work that only he can do, not drudgery at Migelo's.

"So what're you up to?" he asked. No reply. He whirled around to find Tomaj glued his gaze at a customer who had just stepped in, merely whispered "what's she doing here?"

Many eyes were also focused on her. She dressed in a lacy bishop sleeve and knee-length skirt adorned with frills, knotted trim, and a long blue train. It was a kind of fashion blending Dalmascan style with Archadian. Her long ringlets flowed into two streams down in front of her breast.

"Ah!" she cried and shed a beam of dazzling sunshine into the dark, gloomy tavern. Tomaj looked into her greenery eyes, but to his disappointment, she breezed past them upstairs in funny ring-ring sounds of tassels and coins in her belt.

On the mezzanine, Larsa was waving at her. He pulled a chair for her to sit, and they started to converse. Tomaj was speechless with shock at what he perceived. He tried to ask her to the Sandsea once but she refused, and now she was with Larsa.

Vaan scanned upstairs. _So this is what he was busy doing_, he thought and wondered if this had any involvement to the cause of peace in Archadia or Ivalice. Vaan doubted even if he made any progress in seeking his lost friend. He was enjoying his carefree love life.

Delight of one was deprived of another's. This girl was Tomaj's crush, it seemed. Vaan heard that her name was Kassy. Tomaj was somewhat a sort of a flirt, but they had come to a conclusion that this time he was serious and did not give up despite refusals.

"If you need a shoulder to cry on, I'll be here for ya," he said expressing his genuine sympathy for Tomaj. Vaan was not sure why he said that. It popped into his head like an old saying. He guessed it was not easy to have a rival of love like Larsa. A charismatic emperor for your rival, it sounded like a defeat already, especially when Tomaj was a lame flirt, which was to say he rarely succeeded in his wooing.

"D-Don't be ridiculous! Just a kid. I'd never lose to him."

Vaan nodded and upped in hope of leaving before getting involved, but Tomaj wrapped his arm around his shoulder, pulled Vaan closely and mumbled, "how he met my Kassy, go investigate that for me, wouldya?"

"Do it yourself," he threw Tomaj's arm away and slipped from his grip.

"Y'know, I've always been keeping an eye for a good hunt for ya."

Vaan grunted and agreed. Nothing seemed good when it came to Larsa, yet he had to stick to this matter for a while. He walked out and turned for a downstairs to Lowtown.

Lowtown was the gloomy part beneath the city. In the past, many merchants used here as warehouses. After Dalmasca fell in the war, Archadian occupation drove many moved down here. Now when the ink on Peace-Treaty dried, many of them moved back to upper Rabanastre. Most except for a few.

Vaan strolled past once-familiar dark alley to the north. He asked and Fidal told him to go to northern Lowtown if he sought for Revenas. He had something to inquire. _About the rumor…_ There was time he was ready to confronted Larsa, but words failed him. How to put it? Asking to his face: Are you the old man's son? Penelo was going to scowl at him, and the answer would certainly be positive, maybe a positive lie even.

He would find the truth but from another route. Moreover, he wanted to know more, if possible, about Larsa's lost friend also. _Find his friend, get it done, and send him back to where he belongs. _That was the plan.

Fidal instructed him to find a house with black door. A man called Deik lived there and he would show him to Revenas.

"Black door, black door," Vaan mumbled.

Finally, he found a big ebony door in upper corner. Black door? This should be called a gate, but it was the only black entrance he saw during his half hour of roaming the sprawl. On its right side was a board set in a chess puzzle. Behind it was a midnight blue board with names, lots of, in golden letters. A name stood out. It was written big on the first line in neat italic calligraphy. It read: Revenas Conrad. He had been the right place.

Vaan knocked.

"Coming," a strangely familiar voice answered. He heard patting rushing to the gate and Kytes's face poked out from the crack. "Vaan!"

It had always been close, yet he never realized. This black-door house was the Home that sheltered Filo and numerous orphans and the School that gave Kytes magick study for free. The full name was Deik's School and Children's Home.

"What brought you here? Care for a magick lesson?" asked Kytes guiding him inside.

"I'm looking for a man, name Revenas. Deik knows him."

"What? I never heard of this Revenas."

"Hey, his name stands bold in the board in front of this house."

Kytes scratched his head. He would ask his master, Deik, about this if it was not inconvenient to do so now. Deik was in his daily meditation.

"Are you looking for Master Revenas?" asked a boy, overhearing their conservation. He was around Larsa's age, dressed in green clothes that reminded him of the Skycity.

"Hey, Lige!" Kytes gladly cried, "know him?"

"He's my master," he nodded, "unfortunately, he isn't here now. If you'd leave a message, I could relate it to him."

He was murmuring the answer when Lige suddenly shouted out and hurried outside. "Hey, what're you doing?" the boy asked loudly.

A black cap could be seen from where Vaan stood. Its wearer looked up. One hand wiped sweats on his forehead; the other hand was holding a cumbersome bag of groceries with difficulty. "I was asked to carry some foodstuffs on my way back," he gasped; sprays of dark hair fluttered along his breaths.

"Leave it to me," he grabbed the bag then turned to Kytes, "Kytes, could you lend me a hand?"

They shared the bag and quickly it put into place. Lige quickly pulled a chair for Razj. "Have a seat. I'll bring you a drink."

"Oh, I'm fine," he sat down on the edge and studied Vaan with a curious smirk. "What might have brought you here?"

His mocking smile was something Vaan would not forget, at least in the time being. "The thief last time!" he moaned pointing at the boy's face.

"That's surprisingly rude. I have name to call," he frowned and swiped his arm away, "I'm Razj. And you are?"

"He's Vaan," said Kytes.

"Kytes, I don't need ya say that for me."

"Mr. Vaan, isn't it?" Razj tilted his head, "thank you for making contribution to Deik's School and Children's Home."

"Contribution?" Lige came back with a glass of water.

"Yes. I've mentioned to you. He's the anonymous donor of 1,500 gils," he stood up and said in a slight Rozarrian accent. "When you're here, may I have the honor of your presence whilst your name is scrivened on the board?"

Vaan was quite acquainted with Rozarrian dialect; in fact, Orladia, where he went for adventures, was main territory of Rozarria Empire. There was something in his voice that was unnatural, though he could not point exactly.

The board outside was to list contributors of the Home; Vaan thought those were names whose were living here.

"Haa, just a triviality. Don't soil your hand," Lige suggested and took the fountain pen out of Razj.

"Is this Razj a sort of royalty? Prince of thieves?" Vaan asked Kytes in a somewhat mocking tone.

"Dunno. I heard he used to live in a village near border of Dalmasca and Rozarria."

"So why did he end up here?"

"Be at least a bit sensitive, will you?" Lige scorched after he finished his rapid writing, "that's private!"

His name was fourth from the bottom of the list but it stood out in disfigured characters resembling cockatrice scratch. Though he might not be a real contributor, this was not how he should be treated.

"Actually 'tis no secret," Razj said lifting his pen around the name. The golden ink altered magickally along his stroke in a more attractive look. "The village was destroyed in an upsurge of monsters. People must emigrate to Rabanastre. I'm but one of many."

A stasis quality in his speech, coldness even, caused Vaan to doubt the genuineness of his story. Time and experience made him into a cynical sky pirate. He smelled something fishy about this Razj. Even if he might be a victim of fate jest – they all were – this held feeble when it came to privileges. Nevertheless it had nothing to do with him.

Thoughts of reclamation of his money were gone with the wind, but the good thing was the shorty did not spend it all for a crazy shopping spree.

"Well, I have to go. Tell Revenas that I'll come back tomorrow."

"We are to hold a meeting about the art of Magick. You're welcomed to join if you have time, Mr. Vaan," Razj smiled at him, but his invitation might sound more alluring if he did not.

"Yes, Vaan. Razj's one of the most knowledgeable here. And he's been busy with his job at the theater recently. It's once in a blue moon," added Kytes.

"Maybe another time."

Vaan left in Kytes's disappointment, though he planned nothing in particular to do. It might be a gut feeling, but he felt uneasy whenever Razj was around. It was like seeing another Larsa. He wondered if Penelo would be happy to see him. Now he recalled that he also worked at the theater. Aminestié was the name. It was built in celebration of the Archadia-Dalmasca amity. He paid it a visit, in fact, the first thing Penelo did when they came back Rabanastre was dragging him to the theater with her. She must be there practicing her perform at the moment. Maybe he should see how she was doing when he had chances.

* * *

The Penelo in his question was actually not doing any practice. It was short to their audition; Asma-san – the chief dancer and her mentor – ordered her practice no more, but if she felt like, she might join her in meditation. In a moment, their practicing room was transformed into temple, or to put in her words 'a spiritual space to reflect your soul'. Penelo join her and other dancers as well as musicians in every session yet felt no less distraught.

"Perhaps our little bird needs more space to fly," Asma secretly giggled under a translucent veil revealing only her gazelle eyes. The gaze could penetrate deepest souls.

"Please don't tease me," she blustered tapping her fingers on the floor. She was acting like an amateur. Even her debut was not so terrified.

"I say you should give yourself some air. You're stressing yourself."

Asma always gave the best advice and she would be a fool not to follow. Yet she felt uneasy to leave, so she was dangling around the room.

"What's so special about this audition, Penelo?" asked Shaya curiously; she was the other mentee of Asma. They started dancing the same time. Now her experience had surpassed Penelo greatly; a sub-consequence of getting under way. "Is it because you'd perform before the Emperor?"

Penelo paused; how to explain it she was wondering. Shaya would not believe if she said the emperor was her friend so she really really wanted to dance for him. The audition was to choose performers for a special Archadia-Dalmasca festival, and of course Larsa was to attend the festival. What concerned her was that even though they danced in a group, dancers would be selected individually. This mean they might choose Asma and Shaya but not Penelo. It had been two years or more since the last time she danced on stage.

"Tell me the truth," she chirped, "you've secretly taken to his Excellency?"

"I-I never –"

"I heard that the queen took a real fancy of him. He must be pretty cute."

"Little birds soar high. Perhaps a wind has carried her to royal windows and there she was befriended," Asma took a wild guess which startled Penelo for how accurate it was.

For Faram's sake, Penelo could not be in this conservation any longer. Therefore, she hastily made her mind and begged for leave which was granted.

Asma was a celebrated and accomplished dancer as well as a wonderful and thoughtful mentor. Penelo had her to thank for her rapid success in mere one year. It would stain her mentor's fame if she was proved to be a flash in the pan. She must try her best.

Penelo breezed through back stage halls lightly with her toe. Her veil was swirling in her hands; her torso and hip flowed in infinite loops along a soundless melody. She felt like practicing even in gloomy corridors. A group of men appeared out of nowhere before her and she stumbled. They were gathering in front of the downstairs to wardrobe and storage and had not noticed her yet.

Among them was a dark-haired man that looked familiar, but she could not recall who he was. A red gleam of reflection from his pinky finger rang the bell. The ring on his finger Penelo once found it among Vaan's decreased older brother Reks's possession (which costed them quite an amount of money and effort to get their hand on). At that time, they surprised to see that red-stone ring for the first, but later things came clear when this man found them to retrieve the ring. He was a friend of Reks; he asked him to keep it for him.

He talked to a white-haired man in an almost inaudible whisper. Penelo strained her ears. 'Rumors', 'the Play' and 'resistance' were all she could hear, but they gave her enough information she needed.

_So he was one of them…_

There were rumors through grapevine that someone was gathering rebels, men dissatisfied with the treaty, men believing Dalmasca won the war and should have made the Empire bowed down to them. Baseless notions would soon ruin peace and order of Dalmasca. Ironically, they chose to base the hideout in covert of Aminestié Theater, the symbol of Dalmasca-Archadia amity and cultural harmony.

Her face turned pale as she thought that Vaan's acquaintance was a part of them. Vaan had come and gone visiting him quite frequently. They had dissolved in darkness, but the image of them lurking still lingered in her mind. A new vision crossed her head; it was Vaan standing among them. _No, no, don't think…_

However, she could not shake the thought off. Vaan was terribly reckless, even suicidal sometimes; this was something Penelo could assure herself. Maybe she had better keep the eyes on him closer. The audition occupied her mind too much. She rushed to the exit and made her way back Migelo's shop.

Penelo ran as fast as she could as if stopping one second and she would be put in jail. Sentence to death for treason, that would be something she did not wished even in death. The store stood still with its welcoming green sign. Everything looked fine and good. Only Vaan was nowhere to be found. Fortunately, Migelo did not rely much on Vaan to run his business; still he was having a hard time because of Kytes's leave of absence to attend his magick class and was more than glad to have Penelo around. She had been helping him arrange shelves when Vaan came back.

"Vaan, where on sky have you gone?" she asked angrily.

After he left the Home, he went to check the Westersand. The last time left an unsatisfied aftertaste in him. This time he intended to use his airship if the route to Westersand was not closed due to some vague technical problems. There was no ban of going there, but restriction seemed true. He assured himself of that as he met a few travelers while treading there on foot. His old self filled with excitement to discover wonders in sea of sand was lost in raking gazes of these so-called travelers. They looked more like stalker surveying all people doings. Therefore, he had to get back.

"Well, I've gone for some fresh air."

Penelo looked at him with slicing gaze. "You know that we need you –"

"To be there for ya, right?" he interjected, "look, I'm fine. Nothing bad is gonna happen."

Her words as usual got lost on him. Penelo sighed deeply while Vaan was pondering why she was scorching this time. It was just like any other times he skipped out on work.

Luckily, a customer walked into right time, and their conversation was put aside for a moment. They realized immediately that was Larsa. His cheerful voice broke the tense. "Oh, you both are here,"

"You got back early from work today," Penelo greeted him. The word 'work' was somewhat amusing to Vaan.

"I just stop by briefly to give you these," Larsa said and in manner of a blesser he took out a small box with purple ribbon and hand it to Penelo. She slowly opened it in his approving smile.

"It's calix," she cried in joy, "and delis."

From the second name, Vaan guess they were candies. Delis was a sort of sticky sweets that was popular with kids. Actually all candies were considered for kids in Dalmasca, but he knew Penelo loved them and sometimes furtively eat some. It appeared that Larsa too acknowledged that. He stared at the italic words 'Reverie's Sweets' painted on the box and thought about Tomaj's request. It was rumored that his crush worked at a café or sweet shop.

"Allow me to make amends," he continued and turned to Vaan, "this is for you." He offered him a gold card and a letter which Vaan scanned it quickly without putting his hand on.

"What's this?"

"A member card of the taster's guild. This should permit you to dine in major of celebrated restaurants at your leisure. I secured a list to it. I considered reversing a table at Elissar, but you ought to decide it for yourselves."

"Lamont-sama, you don't have to," said Penelo emitting a slight glower as she saw Vaan shrugged and turned away.

"Yeah. I won't take it," Vaan replied. Frankly, what happened in his date sat and gathered dust in his mind. "But if you wanna help," he continued before they might think that he still held grudges, "tell me…"

His palm sweated. He felt an urge to speak out his mind. _Go for the rumor, ask him!_ But in last second he changed the subject into Tomaj's girl.

"Oh, you know Kassy-san?" Larsa answered a trifle surprised, "yes, I met her this morning at the Sandsea."

"It was Tomaj," Vaan said looking absently around.

"So it's her," he paused shortly with his fingers on his chin. "You may consider me a patron of her store."

"Then what were the dating stuffs about?"

"Dating? No," he chuckled, "she was recruiting a shop assistant. I merely introduced a fit candidate to her."

"Since when you worked for a job center?"

"I'm aiding a group of west migrants."

Vaan frowned recalling what he heard. "You don't say the village destroyed by monsters."

"You're familiar with what befell Vallen village?"

In fact, he had just been told it since noon, which was four hours ago, and astonished to find it was truth.

"I heard about them. A swarm of monsters rampaged the place," said Penelo, "surprised to know that you care about this, Vaan." Then she turned to Larsa, "I know you meant good, but many used this story for fraud. Just be careful, ok?"

"C'mon Penelo," Vaan cut in, "that's the last thing to worry. Larsa's gonna trick 'em before they can."

Penelo scowled at him, but he paid her no attention. _This isn't what you should concern._ What he minded was why he did all these_. You don't tell me Larsa, an emperor, will spare his luxurious time to work as a recruitment agent just for the sake of doing goods?_

"And does it have anything to do with why you're here?" asked Vaan. Larsa replied him with a silent gaze. "Because of your friend?" He made a guess.

Larsa turned sharply away from his look. A clear answer. After a brief pause, he spoke at last. "That's –"

"Forgive me, my lord," a sentinel interjected, he was one of his cortege. "It's time."

Larsa nodded, and to Vaan, said, "I must go now. We shall discuss it later."

Then he slipped away with Vaan's precious chance of questioning him, and only Faram knew when would be 'later'. It had been proved to be truth as Larsa had been back late, terribly late that night. In fact, Vaan was not sure if he did return or not. For he stayed up late deliberately waiting for him, but fell asleep in middle of his vigil. He made amends by waking up early but could not meet him either; neither Penelo see him.

She showed her worry for his healthy. According to Penelo, Larsa had been overworking and he looked pale and thin while Vaan saw him just normal. Larsa might shield himself under his 'work', but he had another way to find out. It was high time he paid that guy a visit.


	6. I-5 The Tome

**5\. THE TOME**

A child in blue breeches was running in a twilight hall. Dull sounds of a six-year-old boy boots patting on moon-lit marbles echoed in air. His breath was gasping; his tiny hand weary for carrying a heavy tome.

"O Tesoro!" his mother cried out, "where have you been?"

"Your… book," he panted.

"Thank you," she beamed. Her beauty was hidden under a wide-brimmed hat. She gently stroked her fingers over his hair, correcting his black cap, "now, quickly, let us go."

She held his hand firmly. They blended into a group of men and children and breezed through the hall not knowing at the end of it a troop of soldiers was waiting for them.

They all were in black-steel armor and heavily armed.

"Why so hurry, my dear?" a white-haired man asked her. He was the eldest of them and the only one who was unarmored and unarmed. A purpura taffeta cloak draped over his shoulder.

Everything showed vividly before his eyes. Their thorny armors and sooty cape, the red banners painted with black dancing serpents on their hands, piercing tips of their swords, flash and clash of steels, his hurting wrist as the elder dragging him and his mother along. Even every depicts of the Great Battle on the stuccoed wall moving fast behind them appeared clearly.

Suddenly all faded into redness. His vision was blurred, his throat painful. His fingers were unconsciously clawing at the gnarled grip around his neck.

"No, your Excellency, I beg you!"

In his dreaminess, he heard his mother cry, then a big thump, and a shriek. Something wet and warm drizzled over his face.

"Ungrateful wretch!" screamed a raucous voice.

_No, stop it!_ The child was crying in his mind, but his voice was lost. He tried with all strength and vitality that left inside him.

"No!" he shouted and found himself sitting at a softly lit desk. It was just a nightmare, a bad dream, a horrid remind of the past. _Mother…_

His hands groped on the table top rustling the papers. _My script…_ It was the sign that he had returned reality, not a sweet but at least the better reality. He breathed a sigh of relief and flopped himself on the back of the chair.

"Razj, my dear, are you all right?" a soft voice asked worriedly.

Nico stepped into the room with a desk lamp. Pool of light reflected his big, round, shiny eyes.

"I'm fine. Sorry for waking you up."

"Waking me up? O my dear Razj, it's morning already," he cried turning on the lights. Razj covered his eyes from the blinding light. "It seems you've worked all night for the script."

"The script…" he whispered, absently put his hand around his neck and felt the frilled collar rubbing against his fingers.

"Has a nightmare stamped your sleep?"

"It's more like a haunted past," he said in low voice, "let the past be where it belongs. I've adjusted some parts in the script. Shall we reassess it?"

"Such a zealous chocobo you are!" exclaimed Nico, reading a few papers.

"Yes… I have to show it to a very important one," he smirked, and grabbed a heavy book holding it dearly. "It's time to work."

Sunlight stroke hot on his face, and it had not been noon yet. Summer was near. Vaan considered changed his cotton shirt into flax or maybe he should not wear it at all. But the thought of showing off his abs like old days when he was a street urchin was put aside in dismay. After all, he was a sky pirate now, and he had his reputation to think of.

Vaan quickly took his steps down Lowtown hiding himself from the day heat. He walked northwards to the house with black door. This time the page Lige had been waiting for him. He showed him the way to his master's chamber.

For someone who was staying low in Lowtown, his room was spacious, richly furnished also, having almost every comfort that upper houses could have. He sat at a wide dark tea table. Behind him dominated by numerous of books and tomes.

"Have a seat," said Lige and poured a cup of coffee for Vaan, then stood next to his master.

"I have something to ask about Larsa," Vaan began.

"If it were about his rumor, I have no more to say than Fidal," Revenas replied flatly taking a sip of coffee. A blend of earthy and floral aroma filled the room.

"Did you know Larsa is here, Rabanastre, now?" he went straight into something that might pique his interest. That was the best and simple way to extract information. Revenas looked up into his eyes. It seemed he got it. "Because of an invitation," he continued.

"You'd like to delve into the inviter?"

"That's why I'm here."

"Very well," said Revenas, put his cup down and leant on the back of his chair, "I, too, wish to delve more into this matter."

"Eleven days ago, a caricature was discovered."

That was two days before Larsa came to Rabanastre. An unsightly depiction of the Dalmascan queen and Archadian Emperor was found on a wall in a back alley near storage of the theater with a tome put nearby. What intriguing was the tome bore the crest of Solidor – the coiling twin serpents – on its cover. It was sealed with a strong magick, thus they decided to send it to Archades. The next thing was as he knew; the emperor settled his duty in the most superficial manner ever and set for Rabanastre.

Whoever he was, it was dire if Larsa had to behave like that. Vaan knew that nothing important than his country to Larsa. It must affect greatly to the Empire. An insane though crossed his mind. Could it have anything to do with the rumor?

Vaan sat in waiting. He implied it an exchange of information and it was Revenas's turn to ask, but he said no more words. "So," he spoke running out of patience, "you don't have anything to ask me?"

He shook his head.

"Like how did I know Larsa was here?" Vaan suggested, but Revenas gave no reply, "he's staying at my place."

"That," he answered at last, "I can surmise." And he made the face of telling 'also it was unimportant'.

"But if you'd like to be fair," he said as he noticed Vaan's discomfort with his reaction, "tell me: don't you find this risky?"

Risk was the most exciting word to Vaan. It was not to mention Vaan was among them – the crew assured Larsa's safety after the Sky Battle. He had chance to kill Larsa, but he did not. If Larsa were a villain-king who brought Ivalice to doom; he was to blame.

"I supposed so," Revenas continued without waiting for Vaan's answer, "it was Basch who was in the most menacing position in the end." He looked at his page signaling him to attend Vaan outside.

"Tell him to retreat while it's possible."

That was all to say before Lige asked him to retire. Strangely, he felt as Revenas just wanted to tell, not to ask, and what might he obtain by telling? What most troubled him was the thing he said about Basch. Vaan did not like the fact that Basch had to act like Gabranth, but never in his life considered it as 'most menacing position'.

Revenas gave him a map marked with where the caricature was found in case he would want to look at it, and it was the case now. The storage was in proximity of the Home. It was linked to the new theater and used as a large wardrobe and stowage. It was said to be covering another activity also, but Vaan had no mind for it. They discovered the caricature in the dead end of the alley leading to the backdoor of the storage. It was not easy to find the alley, if it were not for the map, Vaan would have missed it.

The alley was embracing broadside the storage; at the end of it, a dead way jutted out like an appendix. There Vaan met an obsessive figure standing in front of a vast, vacant wall. He stood still staring at the wall. They had erased the picture on the wall, or tried; tiny marks of blue and pink could still be found in deep, hard-to-reach fissures.

"What business do you have here?" asked Vaan.

The boy turned to pry him with moon-eyed gaze. "What business?" Razj replied, "I might ask the same of you." He slowly receded from the wall and pulled himself on top of a near crate comfortably. His eyes did not take off him, and Vaan could swear that he had seen those eyes laughing at him amusingly.

"I'm working here and I don't presume the same is true of you," he smiled at Vaan, "allow me to surmise. Is it because of the caricature?"

"How did you know?"

"O, Kytes related to me that you're friend of the queen and the Imperial emperor. Truthful it appeared."

_Kytes, you chatterbox, don't you know when to keep your mouth shut!? _

"So what? Care about him? A friend of his?" Vaan rasped.

"Friend," he giggled, "more than a mere friend. He's my dearest, my alter ego, my soul mate. Or it's how I must feel about him."

"Huh?" his brows furrowed in bewilderment.

"Well, I've slacked off for too long. I must go back to work," he jumped out of the crate, "if you need see me, come to the Home or ask anyone working in the theater Nico play troupe and they'll show you to me. Au revoir."

Then he ran off into the storage. Vaan could not have a slightest clue of what he meant, but he did shed some light on an important matter: work. He had been skipping out on his chores at Migelo's store too frequently and better be back.

The very first thing he did when he came back the store was to clamp Kytes under his arm and questioned him on what he told Razj.

"Razj's working on a play about the Archadian emperor," he explained, "you don't wanna him get wrong ideas about Larsa either, right? So I told him about Larsa and he asked how I knew, and…"

"You told him that we've known Larsa?"

"Well, I told him my brother knew 'em, then you showed up at the Home yesterday and he figured out himself."

"You should learn to keep secrets, Kytes," he scolded, resuming his walk back the store after completing a delivery.

"Don't worry about Razj. He's trustworthy."

"And how long have you known him?"

"Um, one month… but he's a good person, just like Larsa."

_Like Larsa…_ He did not like that comparison, though felt the same. Razj did exude an aura resembling Larsa's. But there was something different, something that he or Larsa lacked. _What the heck am I thinking?_ His mind was running out of control. He shook his head. Vaan hates taking guess. Things got messy. Someone had to tell him or he would soon ignore all.

They returned in right time for dinner. The dining table was replete with food. Penelo came out of the kitchen with big bowl and Bash behind with a large tray. Kytes gulped nervously. What on the table was already enough to choke a chocobo. She was holding a feast.

"Welcome home," she greeted them with a big smile.

Penelo quickly went back the kitchen to complete her last dishes leaving Vaan, Kytes and Basch at the table. Vaan found himself a good chance to end his miserable contemplation. He would ask and get an answer or never in his life concern about this.

"So," he started, "you and Larsa came all the way to Rabanastre just for a caricature?"

"Where did you hear about the caricature?" Basch asked demonstrating a sense of urgency, "we've assured the suppression of the incident."

"What?"

"It's strictly confidential," he said in low voice. Then he recalled the tragedy befell their dinner with the queen, he added. "Do not refer it to his Excellency."

Larsa would have retreated to the castle by now if the dinner had not turned so ugly. Basch invited Ashe to come along today, but she was engaged in court. Moreover, she was still unhappy about Larsa's discourteous leave during dining. Now Basch wanted history to repeat itself not.

"What's so fussy about that friend of Larsa's?"

"Personal matter. It's not ours to say."

_In other words, go and ask Larsa for yourself._ Vaan looked away in dismay and disdain.

"By the way, where's Larsa?" he asked the first thing in his mind.

"Resting in his room," replied Penelo when she came back this time with a fat bottle of Barose wine, "I'll go fetch him."

Penelo went for Larsa while Kytes for Migelo. After a while since the old Migelo stepped down from upstairs, Larsa stumbled out from 'his' room. His face bore an ostensibly tired expression.

Penelo was jumping; she had been waiting for this moment. "Now, allow me to announce: I've been chosen to be a performer in the festival." She held her glass high and rejoiced, "Cheers!"

This was as much as Vaan expected from Penelo. She was a talented dancer. But deep in his soul hid a faint hope of failure so they could be flying again. Others was happy for her achievement from the bottom of theirs heart.

Larsa raised his glass and congratulated her with a heartiest smile. She fulfilled her goal while he thought that he fulfilled his. Now his little achievement turned foul, and he had little control over the situation. Nevertheless, he did not mind it tonight and share the joy with his friends.

They made quite a mess that night.

Kytes and Filo nagged Penelo to allow them to drink. They went so far that they compared themselves to Larsa and asked why he could but they couldn't. In the end Penelo gave in and let them have a sip. Kytes's face was disfigured because of the heat while Filo pretended to be more grown up and asked for more.

The worst of all in Vaan's view was that Larsa and Basch brought a bottle of Archadian wine of what name he forgot as a gift and Migelo downed it like water and licked till the last drop. When he was feeling no pain and no fear either, he went on mumbling some nonsense about the fête of last century which Larsa tried to listen in vain.

Basch glanced at his master in secret. The news lifted him slightly from distress. Larsa might have been keeping up his appearance, but Basch knew too well his desolation. _At least, something good before flying back to Archades... _He thought and had a sip of the sweet, dear Barose wine.

Their departure was decided. It would be the morrow eventide, and Basch did not intend to inform them until the time approached.


	7. I-6 Errand

**6\. ERRAND**

Vaan drank a bit or he thought so. Yet the next morning he found himself sleeping on a cough in the front room head-lighted with a fuzzy idea of the party.

A portion o f breakfast was left for him in the dining table. A note was put under it. He tried to get up, grabbed the note and read it. It occurred to him that he had a sound sleep so Penelo did not wake him up. Migelo gave him a day off, but it would be great if he could lend him a hand.

Despite that, Vaan wanted something more exciting. He paid the Sandsea his daily visit. If nothing caught his interest, which had been the case for a few days, he would be back to help Migelo.

Today the goddess of luck smiled upon him, in a solitary corner, hid under other hunt bills, a gleaming gem caught his eyes. At first, it was not so attractive, just a request for ingredients, but when he remembered the mentioned ingredients only can be found in the now-restricted Westersand. He had a more careful look at the bill. It read:

"_Need of Bellberries_

_ Request: quality Bellberries_

_ Location: Westersand_

_ Description: 'Tis the last season of bloom in Westersand and last chance to obtain these precious berries. A friend of mine truly wished to have them for her new dessert. Bring me superb blueberries and I shall repay you adequately._

_ Petitioner: Lamont (typically found upstairs in the Sandsea from late morning to late afternoon, ask Tomaj the barman if necessary)"_

Vaan read it again. It was written bold and without doubt: petitioner Lamont. Could it be coincidentally the 'Lamont' that he knew?

"How could? How did you find _that_?" shouted Tomaj when he saw Vaan holding the hunt bill.

"It's on the board."

"I've made sure it fall out and no one would see it," he whispered, seized the bill from Vaan and put it on the most discreet place he could find: the corner next to the billboard. The paper was set up to look like falling down naturally.

"Hey, what're you–" Vaan picked the bill up and flicked off. "I take the request."

"Look at the petitioner for yourself," he barked and pointed upstairs. Penelo and Larsa could be seen sitting at the same table. She was leaning towards him with wide eyes. "You still want to do him a request?"

"Thanks for help me find my petitioner," said Vaan and rushed to there.

Tomaj shook his head with arms akimbo. "You really have no idea…"

"Hey, Larsa," Vaan called out.

Penelo scowled at him. "Vaan, it's Lamont."

"Whatever," replied Vaan, not giving the slightest heed. "Is it yours?" he asked shoving the bill in front of Larsa.

"Yes, I wrote it. Are you to accept it?" he replied slowly.

"Sure, why not." The truth was Vaan did not care who requested, he just need a reason to check Westersand. What better reason than accompanying his Excellency? No one dared nag at him this time, he bet.

"Excellent," he smiled contentedly, "I worried that it was uninteresting to the many. It was fallen out of the board yesterday. Kassy-san would be pleased to have the berries."

"Kassy? You meant Tomaj's girl?"

"You may say so. She needs a few ingredients for her new recipe, thus I wrote the request."

Now he got why Tomaj was unhappy to see him taking this request.

"I'm glad to assist her one last time before departing," Larsa continued.

"So, you really have to go?" Penelo confirmed the information that she had just received minutes ago.

"Yes, I'm afraid. The cortege should be ready in the eventide."

Vaan accepted the news with unusual calmness. He did not felt happy or sad, but a strange mixture of both. To think that Larsa would leave, he should have treated him better.

"Now, allow me to present my request briefly. I need you to bring me Bellberries. I believe you're familiar with them. They grew in Westersand. 'Tis the last of season."

Actually, he once heard about them. It was said to be an expensive ingredient. "Well, Westersand is a bit off-limits right now. You don't know?" said Vaan.

"I could presume you unraveled this much. Actually, blooming plain, where they're found, is not in any restriction, neither was there an official restriction. Let us say some areas of Westersand have been put under surveillance."

"And why?" This seem long, but Vaan was pleased that at least Larsa was still open like he once was.

"The ravages of Vallen village. Troops of monster moved in direction of Dalmasca after destroying the village. Although they were eradicated, arcane increase in mist of the areas troubled us."

"And Archadia kindly lend us a helping hand, right?"

He nodded and continued. "The news was kept to prevent unnecessary panic."

Or the fact that it was kept silent was something to panic.

"If you are to accept my petition, then perhaps you could accept another request" Larsa added and stood up, "please allow me to accompany you."

"Sure," Vaan found no reason to decline his friend's little and maybe last request.

"I'm coming too," cried Penelo.

So it was settled. Vaan and Penelo, accompanied with Larsa, would proceed to Westersand to seek Bellberries. Vaan snuck back home to take their weapons, crescent staff for Penelo and dark talwar saber for himself, as well as their licenses for wielding them. When he arrived at the West gate to meet up with them, strangely he found Kytes and Filo was there with Penelo, holding his mace and her skybandit, ready to go.

"What're you two doing here?" he asked.

"So what're you doing here?"

"You don't wanna see us here?"

They both replied at the same time.

"You gotta know we're always keeping an eye on ya," Filo continued in a dangerous tone.

"So never think of keeping the fun for yourselves again," added Kytes.

Vaan shook his head in disdain. "Seem I got my hands full."

"The more the merrier," said Larsa from his behind, "now shall we proceed?"

"L-Lamont!" Kytes and Filo shouted in surprise.

"Right, right. Let's go." Vaan shoved them forwards; Penelo and Larsa were following behind.

"So, is it okay for him to go without his protectors?" Kytes asked Vaan in low voice after walking awhile on the sand.

"Can he fight?" Filo questioned looking curiously at Larsa's two blades.

"Well, somewhat…"

Obviously, anyone who wields a sword could use it to fight to some extends. From his experience with Larsa, he concluded that he was a tough guy. Yet he never really saw Larsa in a serious battle. Most of the time he was protected, the only time he might be in danger was when he tipped his sword against his own brother, but it was more of threatening than fighting.

What most astonished was Larsa did possess licenses to wield swords; he showed the gate guards his licenses while they were checked before travelling outside the city.

Vaan glanced back at Larsa. He was strolling at his leisure, chatting with Penelo. Three years ago Vaan would join them and tell Larsa his stories; they would be laughing and smiling. Now he found those memories… embarrassing, especially when reconsidering his stupid and silly tales. He had sounded like a brat, a sky pirate wannabe.

_How unprofessional. _

However, it was also sweet and happy; his green days, when he had been carefree and had no appearance to keep.

Vaan looked at Larsa again. Still blithe as he had been, even more in some extends. He stopped to play with a wild rabbit; Penelo was watching him jollily.

"Don't know you like rabbits," he said and walked towards them. The little animal ran away as he was approaching.

"Oh," Penelo groaned, "Vaan you scared her away."

"Hey, I've done nothing."

"We were so close. I almost pat her," she remarked, "it's rare to see rabbits in Westersand."

Filo urged them to move on, upbeat and hasty as usual. "Hah," she sighed and shook her head in a disappointed manner of adults, "gotta babysit for one more kid."

"Hey, what're you hinting at?" Kytes protested.

"Are you to say me?" asked Larsa and startled Filo.

"That's the least thing to worry, Filo," joined Penelo. "Larsa-sama's looking after us."

"You're serious?" Vaan asked with an up brow; Filo was wondering why they had so opposite opinions.

"You're overpraising me," said Larsa tilting his head in awkwardness.

"Hey, I think we're there," Kytes observed at the field of colors before them.

It was a competition of fire Galbana lilies and ice Bluebells on a grayish green field. Though some had dimmed and melted, seeds of life grew from their remnants, while some was thriving and thrusting to show their bloom in the last of season.

"To think the days are numbered," he remarked. His fingers were stroking a faded Bluebells down its berries. "Such ephemeral's resource of young. Yet a wondrous scene to be among."

Vaan scratched his head. He did not think more than these berries could fetch a high price.

"They have a sheer shine," commented Penelo holding a berry high and looking at it under the sun. "High quality."

A super bloom it was this year. There was quantity and, as Penelo praised, quality. "By the way, Larsa, I know bellberries are expensive. But that won't be matter to you, why don't you just buy some? Say from the market?"

"It's been a paucity of them. Actually, it's said that a beast robbed them of the berries," Larsa replied and observed the berries with a frown.

"A beast?" asked Kytes.

"Are you scared now?" Filo teased him.

"I'm not. It's just… Wah!"

Kytes screamed as a giant shadow slipped past him. It was large as a werewolf and fast as a hare.

"Now, it's the fun part," Vaan said and drew his sword.

Vaan lunged; the monster made a close void. The tip of his saber felt a soft touch, yet it slid past like a ghost shadow. He tried again. This time a surprise attack; Filo had staggered it with a false strike. He gave it a direct hit. The beast shot a sharp shriek and fell to the ground. Despite its quick attempt to escape, the finish blow was high over his head and ready to strike down.

"Take it from Vaan Swiftest of the Skypirates!"

"No, please wait!" Larsa shouted and put himself between Vaan and the wounded beast. But it was too late, his blade fell down and Vaan could not hold it. To their surprise, Larsa was ready with his knife and deflected the blow with it. A parry.

Penelo's heart stopped beating and almost fell out of her breast. "Oh, Larsa-sama," she forgot to call him Lamont and rushed to see if they both are all right.

"I'm fine," Larsa nodded at her.

He swirled to inspect the unknown beast. It regained its strength and ran to hide behind a boulder. He kneeled down before it and spoke in an indecipherable tongue. Though it bore differences from what he heard in Ordalia, Vaan recognized it was beast lore, a special skill to communicate with monster, just did not know Larsa learnt it.

After a brief exchange, he gained its trust; the beast came out of its cover and climbed on his shoulder. A dirty rag fell out from it revealing a rabbit.

"What?" they were gasping.

"She's the rabbit," he said shedding some lights.

"Oh, the rabbit that we saw earlier," cried Penelo.

From the little friend beast, which was one of rabbit pets before her owner abandoned her and her friend to fend for themselves, the berries was ill to eat. The other pet ate some and turned foul. Thus she disguised herself as a giant beast to prevent folk from gathering them. Her friend was sleeping a little further from here; they should leave at once. But Larsa suggested to look further into the matter and explained the danger to left her friend being as she was.

Vaan stared at the rabbit, which now was under Pelnelo's care. She hid from his gaze under Penelo's arm. Now and then she would secretly glance at him in a dreadful way and shy at him.

"C'mon, Vaan, you scared her," she was petting and comforting the little one.

"I didn't do a thing."

"Oh, you don't envy her, do you?" Larsa teased him.

"Ridiculous!" he protested, and all but Penelo giggled at him.

"Penelo-san, let me hold her, will you?" Larsa suggested; Penelo handed him the rabbit, "I believe she's here."

A burst of colors was competing for their attention, yet their attention was anchored at a dark, lumpy spot in the center of the plain. As they approached, it gradually turned its red, round eyes at them. It was crouching, yet Vaan's head-tall. It was not just a bigger, but a giant, dark and muscular version of the rabbits.

The beast shriek in agony, shaking its head and throwing its long arms around in madness as it perceived them coming with its friend. Their poor friendly rabbit replied with short and rapid moans, but soon deafened in the terrible scream.

"Don't tell me this is her friend," Kytes asked, stepped back a bit.

"I was told thus, I'm afraid."

"That's beyond…" Filo's remark was cut short as it slashed its gnarled limp at her; she ducked it. "Yikes!"

"Now is the real fun part," Vaan drew his sword, even more exciting than the last time.

"No, please wait," Larsa cried, put himself between them again and tried to negotiate with the vicious beast. But answer to his sincere goodwill was a headbutt. The young Emperor staggered as Vaan dragged him out of the attack.

"Useless in chatting. Actions speak louder than words," Vaan shouted at his innocuous face before thrusting himself towards with the sword high in front of his face.

Penelo also felt more but more worried this time. Look at him advancing with eagerness. His eyes were gleaming like a child with his toy. A gleam shone so strong that he could not see his surroundings. Penelo surveyed around anxiously. There was Mist mantling the whole field. It was murky and dark with tint of weird purple, emitting from underground. She never saw Mist in such color in her entire life.

Vaan hit it at his very first attack, a direct blow; it was a too large target to miss. It kneeled down and screamed in pain. He was ready for another, the finishing blow. However, he was fooled; the painfully fallen facade was in fact false. He moved right into its attack. Swiftly as he avoided, a scratch on shoulder was the result of his stupidity.

But he was sure it was hit. How could it recover in such a short time?

The beast answered him by proudly standing on two feet, showing the wound. The Mist was draping around it and like a faithful ally healed its wound.

"What?"

It struck down with muscle arm. He dodged. Not just heal the injury, Mist gave it power.

"You're not the only one who gets benefit from Mist," shouted Vaan and gave more attacks. He felt the Mist heat warmed him up and readied to unleash.

Penelo put her palm on her forehead. _At least, you should try to understand the situation first._

"Penelo-san, please take care of her," Larsa gave her the rabbit and rushed to aid Vaan.

"Larsa-sama! Wait!"

"That's the source," he explained aiming his finger at a point on the ground, closely behind the beast, "we must seal it."

"It's too dangerous. I'm coming with you."

The battle was at its top heat. Filo and Kytes stepped back for Vaan to unleash his special move. At the very moment he was ready to attack, he realized Larsa and Penelo was crouching behind his target, on his attack range.

"What're you doing there?" he shouted.

"Buy us some time," Penelo shouted back. This drew the attention to her. The beast whipped with its long ears; she leapt aside, but then realized her big mistake. The beast thrust at the empty gap, which she had just disclosed, in front of Larsa who was concentrating on closing the hole.

Larsa unsheathed his dagger with the left hand and parried. Its teeth gnawed on the golden knife while glowing vine grew from the seal, binding his right hand to the ground. The boy was stuck in between, unable to move even an inch and a second attack, this time a punch, was launching from his side. But Vaan came in time and stopped it with his sword.

Lightvine unbound self, releasing Larsa's arm. It made into a symbol of two symmetrical S intertwining. The seal was completed. The atmosphere was clear now. Their enemy gathered last drop of Mist; none was left for Vaan. Nevertheless, it did not discourage him.

"Fine. I just have to beat it now, right?"

He blitzed at the beast with the Talwar in his hand; Filo and Kytes backed him up. Fatigue built up on his arms; his attack went at slow pace. They managed to give a few strong hits, but it ended in vain, the beast kept regenerating itself.

"How long," Filo panted, "it keeps… like this?" Vaan sensed a tinge of desperation in her voice.

Her weary feet bumbled and stumbled on a rock. She was open to attack and their enemy would not waste this chance. It would be a straight hit to her face if it were not for Larsa and Penelo to pull her out of way.

Larsa ran to forwards holding a lambent stone up in front of the beast's face. The stone quenched its thirst with the Mist from their enemy and exuded gleams of blue lights.

"Nethicite!" Vaan shouted.

When he assured himself that he would never see the stone again, it was before his eyes drinking dry of Mist. However, he had no time to think and continue his battle.

The beast was still attacking them aggressively despite all the talk and the loss of its former strength. Soon it fell into his sword, yet Vaan felt no satisfied as he expected it would. In his mind, the images of blue magick stones – the nethicites – deployed by Vayne in the war still sharp and clear.

Larsa put the rabbit down. The little one quickly ran to the fallen monster but was held back. The corpse was exploding into dark shatters of Mist; too dangerous to come near. Penelo stood next to him and heard him whispered "I'm sorry." He had hoped that by absorbing mist he could reverse its effect and the beast would turn back to its old, white, fluffy self.

"What's with nethicite?" Vaan could not waste a moment to ask, despite Penelo's signal of leaving Larsa alone.

"First," Larsa rose up, "may I ask you something? I need call Gabranth."

"You meant to fetch Basch?" Kytes and Filo cried in the same time. Larsa nodded in reply. "Hey, I'll go," they both said.

"Show it to the guards and they'll take you to him," he said and gave them a writ of transit. So left Kytes and Filo, in a hurry run to decide who would arrive at the castle first.

"Now, let us bandage your wound," he observed at the scratch on Vaan's shoulder and took out a potion. Vaan forgot about it. Penelo scowled at him; still she mended his wound while Larsa explained to him.

It was not nethicite, but nephmicite – a new developed type of magicite. Unlike regular magicites, nethicite absorbed magickal energy, and nephmicite ferocious mist. All at the hands of the Draklor Laboratory.

"Draklor Laboratory, the last thing I wanna hear," Vaan was surly and wondering what would Balthier said if he heard of this.

"The research was conducted in attempt to reverse what befell Nabudis."

A redeem to his brother's doings. At least he had a good reason, yet it left Vaan with a vague cynical afterthought. Good reasons easily turned ill. Vaan would have to keep his eyes closely on Larsa. Suddenly, his shoulder stung with a sharp pain.

"Ouch!" he shouted as Penelo was fastening the bandage tightly.

"Stop asking him like interrogating a criminal, please," she whispered to Vaan's ear while tying up the dressing with difficulty. Penelo was known to be clumsy sometimes.

"Allow me," Larsa offered his help. He crossed two ends, made a loop, passed the other end through it and pulled. Done easily.

"Oh, that was fast," Penelo gasped.

"I can show you. It's very popular in Archadia, called brother knot. Here," he pulled it free and tied it again.

"Hey, my shoulder isn't the place for you to practice your knots."

"Oh, I'm… I'm sorry."

"Don't be, Larsa-sama. That's his place," Penelo laughed and they all were smiling like the old days.

Only Ashe and Basch came; the two kids stayed the city to rest after their long walk. From distance her Majesty saw that he was having a lively chat with Vaan and Penelo. She made a happy choice of clothes wearing her casual travelling dress instead of the royal attire.

When Basch had told her that he received an urgent summons from his Excellency, Ashe had been worried. Now she found he was laughing blithely, her distress of his discourteous leave on their dinner returned to its former glory. But its reign did not last long.

"Ashe-san, Gabranth," Larsa noticed them and beamed a warm ray of sunshine at her, and her dismay was scattered to four winds.


	8. I-7 Reunion

**7\. REUNION**

Ashe approached them with her arms crossed putting up a stiff demeanor while Basch walked comfortably.

"We chanced to find another singularite here," Larsa began to explain and showed them the source of Mist before they could utter a word. "It appeared that the original seal was broken off. I've closed it temporarily for safety."

"Could it be reopened for investigation?" asked Ashe although she had surmised the answer from his confident tone and gesture.

"This is our chance to investigate it. I am to accompany you at your disclosure."

"And you shall stay Rabanastre longer," Basch sighed, realizing what this led to, "isn't it, Excellency?"

"I'm to visit Rabanastre next month to further the defense of Dalmascan border. We merely execute it in advance. Let us assume that I shall stay till Magister Lukio's arrival."

The Judge could give no further disagreement. They proceeded to investigate the matter at once.

Though Vaan did not quite understand what they were rambling about, he was exciting to get together with Basch and Ashe one more time. They gave him and Penelo a brief explanation of singularites.

A few locations with unusual thick Mist was found across Ivalice; they named it singularite. The most notorious singularite was the old Verdpale Palace of Nabudis. Five years ago, under Vayne's command, an Imperial Fleet tested the power of deifactured Nethicite on the city. Result was once-graceful Capital of Nabradia now corrupted with thick, ferocious mist and became so-called Necrohol, a dead hollow ruin with no dwelling soul.

A small number, lesser in strength, was detected in Westersand, and some had been sealed. While a method to break the seals was in development, Ashe foresaw a dilemma of Pandora.

"It sounds hard," Penelo said worriedly.

"Yes, it could reveal more troubles than it's already been, but we must unravel the matter to the deepest."

"What to think? Just go inside," Vaan said pointing at the singulatire, "and we'll see."

"Done before thinking," Ashe sighed at him, "typical of you."

Vaan grinned in reply.

The seal dissolved into thin light under Larsa's chant. Vaan noticed it was an untoward of Larsa. He never knew that his friend was able to cast sealing spell and wondered how many things else that he did not know. The door opened and they stepped down the hatch to underground. A wave of mist breezed against their face welcoming them into the ground of unknown and mystery.

Vaan did not expect a reunion, though he was happy about the way it turned out. Ashe looked just like she had been in her shoulder-length ash blond hair and old battle outfits. Basch was forced to put himself into a Judge Magister amour, but inside he was unchanged. The only thing that may upset him was the escort going with the Queen, gladly, they were ordered to guard in front of the hatch.

After walking down narrow steps, they stepped into a lobby-like space. The Mist was so thick that it irritated them. Larsa's nephmicite constantly drank the mist to give them little solace to move on. Vaan was curious how much it could hold. A small stone with large thirst.

The lobby was cavernous. Pool of light poured out from a few magicite-fueled lamps that still worked, hanging on lumpy stone walls. It appeared to be an underground cave utilized for dwelling.

"I couldn't believe that this place has laid unknown for so long," Ashe gasped at the cavern.

"Here's the border between Dalmasca and the Urutan-Yensa. No strange that we overlooked it," Basch observed as they moved on.

Spacious chambers connected to each other with narrow corridors. They compounded a complex site of an underground labyrinth. A long desk was left in corner of the room, but they found no papers or writings. Dwellers deserted this place and left no evidence of whatever purpose here was built for. A furtive business it seemed. They proceeded further, but discovered no more.

"Shh," Basch hushed.

"Footsteps," Vaan said in low voice.

Someone was here before them. Basch hid himself at a turn corner. The sound receded into distance. Their visitors had walked away unknowingly or acknowledged their presence and had been waiting for them on the other side. He steeled himself, unsheathed his sword and whirled its tip forwards.

The other side answered him with a gun leveled at his head, and he with his blade on the man's neck. Vaan readied his saber and pointed it from side.

"Balthier!" he shouted realizing the man's face, and behind him was a viera. Her fist was an inch away from Vaan's face. "Fran!"

The reunion occurred to be more than they could ever imagine.

"Appeared that we have sought ourselves a royal skeleton instead of treasures in this cavernous closet," Balthier explained in his typical manner, sitting on an abandoned table and fixing his cuffs.

"It brought you here also. The fate jest." Basch replied.

"Speak of your fate once more, and I'll leave here for good."

"So you don't know anything about the Mist?" Ashes pondered.

Balthier raked his gaze around before speaking out his answer, glancing at Larsa, "they said Mist of the like in Nabudis appeared near Westersand. Some of you should be well-informed about this subject."

"Well, I," Larsa flustered, "I'm uninformed as you are."

"Might trick me, but not a viera."

"Your nethicite the Mist was drawn to," Fran said in her smoky, mysterious voice and manner.

"Perhaps you just bring the trinket on simple vacation," Balthier added sarcastically.

"It's a sample of nephmicite, a newly-developed type of magicite that absorbs Mist. They're used on Nabudis," explained Ashe.

"And their plan for the drenched stones fully charged with Mist?" asked Balthier pointing out a loose end that had been concealed. Now Vaan got what annoyed him. "Let me venture a guess. On plate of another sky monster? These are a variation of nethicites resembling ones feeding Bahamut."

"Now, you went too far," Basch cut in, "trust his Excellency, we must."

"Trust him?" Vaan exclaimed, "how do we trust him when we aren't even sure who he really is?"

"Who I am…" Larsa repeated confusedly.

"The rumor. Don't tell me you didn't hear it."

"Vaan!" Penelo scolded him.

"Very well," said Larsa. Vaan braced himself for an answer, a real end for the misery of guessing. "Regarding the rumor, I have nothing to say. However, if my accompany troubles you, I shall retreat to the City."

"Here," he turned to Ashe and handed her the nephmicite, "it shall be useful."

"Vaan," Penelo still scolded him. Her face was dark with rare rage. "Larsa-sama, please don't."

He just smiled at her in reply and walked away.

"I'll go with you," Penelo announced and took Larsa's hand in everyone's moon-eyed gazes. She had had enough of Vaan's attitude. As Penelo grabbed Larsa along her way out, the little rabbit shot a glare at him on behalf of the lady who was holding her. The two's shadow (and a pair of long ears) receded in distance.

Balthier whispered inaudible words that he guessed was a sarcastic 'Good job' and proceeded forwards; Ashe, Fran and Basch also followed. So Vaan had no option but to go after them.

They treaded deeper in the dungeon. Mist was dark and thicker. Ashe found herself a little trembling while trying to clean it with the nephmicite, but it did not work well. Larsa once taught her how to use it, yet it was challenging. Unlike nethicites, nephmicites worked voluntarily. In simple words, someone must activate it to absorb Mist like casting a spell.

"You might want to give it to Fran," Balthier suggested. Vieras were known for high magickal power and mist sensitivity. So sensitive that Fran once went uncontrolled in a frenzy of Mist.

"Will she be fine with it?" Ashe asked worriedly handing Fran the stone. Fran's sister acted in derangedment when she got hold of a nethicite. But Fran handled the nephimicite with comforts; Ashe instructed her in using it. The method was captured easily.

"Don't worry. The nephmicite is calm," Fran commented, "fresh… like Viera magick."

Fran was a better wielder of the nephmicite, if not the best they had. Nevertheless, shortly after they made a move on, the stone signaled its full capacity with blue and purple glittering. Thank to the spacious cavern, Mist scattered around in form of a thin veil. Thus they had no difficulty in treading even though the stone was no longer used, until they had to stop in front of a giant door sealed with magick. The goddess of luck did not smile upon them.

"Fran can't open it," asked Vaan, tinge of disappointment in his voice.

"Too strong even for my talents."

Unfortunately, no one else here to open it for them this time. They had to get back. A troop of magi and researchers were to be sent down to investigate further and unlock the door.

"Archadian magi are accomplished. We shall soon be able to tread further," Ashe remarked as they were turning back upper ground.

"Oh?" said Balthier, "then I have to stay away from this to keep my cuffs clean once I'm back to the City."

"We are in a dire situation thus Archadia aids us," Ashe continued despite his attitude.

"A word of caution from an old friend," Balthier added as he was stepping out the daylight, "he's a skilful manipulator."

Vaan was so curious on what he said and about to ask if they had not found a giant bird waiting for them outside. A diver. Although it lacked the glimmering gold of their old enemy, it fitted for a reunion and a battle brought back many good memories of them being together.

The fight was quick and easy. Larsa had taken all escorts back to the Rabanastre with him, so they were free to roam back the City. Once they arrived there, they would disperse and resume to their own worlds. But in the time being, Vaan was enjoying their fleeting meeting and thought no of the future of separation, for he sensed that they would meet again.

* * *

"Penelo-san, Penelo-san."

His call sent Penelo back to reality. Daylight struck hot on her face. They were back to surface. She was hauling him by the wrist. Her grip was tight.

"I'm sorry, Larsa-sama," she flustered, letting off the hold.

"I'm unhurt. And Penelo-san?"

"Eh? I…" she was off a bit. It had been a real long since the last time Penelo got so furious. But how could Vaan mention about that rumor? How dare he question his lineage? To think that Larsa's real father is… _No, it can't be._

"You needn't accompany me," he continued, "Vaan's involvement with the Rebels troubles you, but don't let it ruin your bond."

"Y-You've known…"

"I underestimated them."

The fact that they convinced Vaan, a friend of his, to turn his sword on him was worth concerning. Firstly, however, he focused on completing his errand and gathered the bellberries that his friend needed with Penelo's help.

"Larsa-sama, the bellberries," she hesitated, "weren't they ill to eat?" The rabbit seemed to have the same concern as she did and was dragging his sleeve.

Larsa explained something to her before turning to Penelo. "Actually, there was nothing ill with the berries. Mist was the cause of all."

"Many a place covers with thick mist," he continued, "yet the Mist in here and Nabudis is so strong and malicious that it affects living beings, transmogrifying them. We must put an end to it before it reaches Rabanastre."

Putting the others' needs before his own as ever. Penelo could not get why Vaan could doubt his intention and Balthier also. "So you're gonna stay a bit longer?"

"Till Magister Lukio arrives," he nodded in reply.

A letter to the Magister had been sent. It was estimated only three to four days left before his arrival. Not much time. Penelo tried to think of a way to make up the friendship between Vaan and Larsa on their way back, but nothing came to her mind.

Once they were back to Rabanastre, Larsa dismissed the escorts and went on alone. Penelo followed him, still hugging the rabbit. The little beast was not indigenous to Westersand; her mistress had made a mistake. They reached a decision to keep her a short while before releasing her back to southern plains, her habitat.

They stopped by Reverie's Sweets to give Kassy the berries. The lady of the sweet house was delighted to see Larsa and troubled when she realized he was with a girl, but her dismay dispersed as he gave her the berries that she had longed for. Before they left, Larsa bought her cookies in pretty box. Everything in this shop came at a pretty price that astounded Penelo.

"So, what're you gonna do now?" she asked nervously.

"I'm going to investigate the theater."

"I'm with you. You'll need a guide to take you around the City, won't you?"

"Indeed I do," he smiled.

They walked northwards to the theater of friendship. He had Penelo showed him around. It was more like a field trip than an investigation. They strolled through whimsical entrance, red velvet-covered lobbies and halls, once or twice Larsa would stop to appreciate a rocaille and leaf carvings along the wall or quadratura ceiling painting, as well as read boards of information.

Cool, calm and collected he was, and Penelo was wondering how he could maintain his peace. Penelo found herself fidgeting. Her mind hardly focused, and her eyes snuck around. Instead of being his assist, she became his anxiety.

"Are you feeling unwell?" asked he worriedly.

"I-I," she shuttered. Her eyes gaze downwards. She did not have the courage to look in his eyes. "If Vaan really joined the Rebels, I-I… don't think I could go against him."

_Like you did to your brother… _

She had been thinking about it for days, weeks even; now she knew the answer. Penelo would go with Vaan even in impropriety. The only exception was things that could put him in danger, but that stemmed from care, not morality. He was her only family, and she dreaded to be alone.

And if she followed Vaan, as she did partner him as a sky pirate, hurting Larsa might be the result of it.

"I'm sorry." His words surprised her. "But listen to me. That shall not occur and my doings are to preclude it. Unless you consider me one given to failure, be troubled not."

She never succeeded in changing Vaan's mind, however, this time, Larsa gave her his words. Penelo might doubt herself but never his words. Frankly, when she met Larsa the first time, his promise was uncertain to her, but time proved it and it would again. Finally she could cast this thought away.

"Yes. You're right. Now where are we going next?"

"Actually, there's a place I've wanted to visit…"

They proceeded to there. It was dark and gloomy, beneath Rabanastre, the Lowtown. Penelo was surprised that the Emperor wanted to visit Lowtown and astonished that they arrived there from the theater. First they went down the wardrobe and storage. She knew they built storage beneath to theater to stow clothes, props and tools, yet never thought that it linked to north sprawl through an alley.

They walked into a dead end jutting out of the alley. Larsa ran towards the dead wall as soon as he saw it.

"This is what I came to see," he said.

"It's just a wall…" Penelo surveyed the wall trying her best to see what Larsa really came for, but she found nothing more an empty wall and a few fissures with blue and pink paints on it.

"Two days before I arrived in Rabanastre. A caricature was found on this very wall," he added. His glove touched the stained wall.

"Caricature?"

"Of me and Ashe-san."

The wall was cleaned of the painting now; nothing to see. Larsa was standing still with his eyes closed. A thick tome was held dearly to his chest. He seemed to feel more than see. Penelo stood there, gazing him until he moved to search around.

"This tome was found here," he said patting on top of a crate. "A letter of invitation was put inside it."

"Was it your friend's?"

He nodded. "Perchance there're other clues here."

The chance was slim, thus it was no strange that they found nothing. Yet Larsa did not appear disappointed. He really came here just to see. Soon they were back upper theater.

"Right, since you're working at the theater, may I ask a favour of you?" Larsa politely requested as they breezed through a hall to the lobby.

"What can I do for you?"

"If you could arrange me an intimate meeting with my best-loved dancer Miss Joie, I'd be more than pleased to have a glimpse of her practice."

"Oh, you can come whenever you feel like," Penelo flushed. Joie was her stage name.

He smiled at his successful attempt to bring the normal Penelo back. They stopped in front of an information board where Larsa was staring at flyers about an auction of mysterious artifacts. He took one of the spare flyers and read it. Penelo too glanced at it.

"It interests you?" she asked, reading in her mind the big letters of advertisement. It said: Once in a lifetime, chance to admire an Archadian Relic and other Objets d'art. All these boasting about precious Archadian artifacts ran over Dalmasca as Archadian fashion was trending now. "Relic? Does it make this illegal?"

"From the look of it, it was simply promotion. All the objects up for auction were accomplished artisan's works. Perfectly legal. I didn't expect to come across it here." He tucked it into the pocket and resumed their walk into the lobby, just a short walk until they got to the entrance.

The lobby was crowded with people as it would ever be. Penelo looked up the painting on the high, curve ceiling. It depicted an illusionistic azure sky, so stunning that she could not help but gaze upon when she walked past and only looked down as Larsa suddenly shouted out.

"Wait, please wait!"

She did not see what caught his attention, but suddenly he pushed his way through the throng of people to pursue someone. Larsa was known to have fleet of feet, and Penelo had a real hard time running after him. When she finally caught up with him, he was standing near a dead end, holding some note papers.

There were two notes and two tickets. One said: I shall see you there, the other: This is for your friend, in pencil. Naturally the other ticket was assumed for Penelo.

Larsa smiled at first then frowned at the ticket. She never saw him in such a mixed expression. The ticket was for an evening play in the theater. The title was 'Emperor Tortoise'. It sounded like a children tale. Penelo was given one ticket, thus they decided to watch it together.

Penelo agreed before she flipped the ticket to see its location was… Beneath Aminestié Theater.


	9. I-8 Performance

8\. PERFORMANCE

Never a performance occurred Beneath Aminestié Theater. Penelo might not be the wisest, but knowledgeable enough for that. That must be a sort of code alluding to the other activity in lower theater.

Larsa remained so calm that Penelo wondered if he realized its meaning. He retired to his room, receiving Basch's report of their investigation as soon as they came back the city.

Vaan told her something about Balthier and Fran's staying at the tavern, but Penelo had no mind for it. She was occupied with the thought of the other activity. Her solemn expression drove Vaan into a belief that she must have been really mad at him. She was never that furious, plus their date did not go so well. Maybe it was time to make amends to her.

_Another dinner? _

He was considering and staring at the bill board in the Sandsea. It had become his hideout for both slacking off and thinking. A delivery to the Sandsea, a regular customer of Migelo's shop, was the best reason to duck out.

"Don't be blue," said Tomaj with his arm around his shoulder. Vaan frowned at him in confusion.

"Now don't have to say. I can tell it from your face," he continued, "I told ya not to take that cursed petition!"

"What's with the petition?"

"Don't know? While you're busy finding bellberries, I saw him dating with Penelo at the theater house. What a philanderer!"

"What were you doing at the theater?" asked Vaan, shifting the attention to a trivial detail.

"Heh hehe, I'll tell ya what, he's not gonna best me," he grinned and showed Vaan two tickets, "'Put thy sweet hand in mine', fit for a romantic date. I'm gonna ask her out, and once she's enticed completely by my charm," he said and ran his fingers through his hair; a choking sweet perfume burst into Vaan's nostrils. "The brat won't stand for a chance."

Usuallly his chat with Tomaj was not useful, yet this time ignited an idea in him. A play or dance could be a good choice; Penelo was a dancer after all. Moreover he had something in mind.

_Allow me to surmise. Is it because of the caricature? _

Vaan recalled his words. Basch had assured that all information about the caricature was kept in secret. Vaan could easily guess that Revenas had an insider, but what about Razj? Getting his hand on that information was impossible for an ordinary worker, unless he was no ordinary. Vaan would pay the theater a visit, get himself a couple of tickets and spill the beans out of Razj. That was the plan.

Like a curse to reckless men such as Vaan was, whenever he made a plan, it turned out ill-favored. He had no difficulty on reaching the theater; every able-bodied man could get that much. However, as he was finally standing in front of the ticket booth, his mind went blank. There was little to choose between these performances to him, and when he made up his mind at long last, his choice was sold out.

"What might have brought you here?" an epicene voice came from behind him and Vaan realized right away whose it was. "Purchasing a ticket?" He peeped into a flyer on Vaan's hand. "Oh, 'The pirates', it's sold out I'm afraid."

Vaan glowered at him. Always show up at wrong place and wrong time.

"Perchance I could help you obtain one ticket..." he smirked at Vaan's reaction.

"Really?"

"One ticket should not be a problem."

"I need two." As he sensed Razj's eyes sparkling with curiosity, he added, "just a friend."

"Let me surmise. A girl?"

"So, can you?" Vaan grunted.

"With one condition, yes."

Vaan was waiting for his condition, but Razj went on asking about his friend. Vaan answered superficially that she was a dancer working here.

"I shall give you two tickets in exchange of your help. Is it fine with you?"

"What kind of help is it?"

"Hardship and toil. A sword is hanging over our heads by a dead line and a stagehand is on sick leave," he sighed, "I'm asking only one day of your precious time."

It was not a bad bargain, considering he wanted those tickets, so Vaan nodded in agreement.

"Excellent!"

"I don't expect you perform underground," Vaan observed.

His head whirled around like a pinwheel gazing at all the clothes, props and equipments that were neatly sorted to make space. The stage was set up cursorily in middle and well lit in soft, warm lights; red curtains were drawn back to reveal the half-painting stage set. On a side of the stage, a stack of stools was waiting for their guests. It looked tidy for a storage, but messy for a theater.

"That you oughtn't to delve into," Razj replied with an arcane smile.

"Razj, good to see you back! Let's start the rehearsal," a pretty woman with blonde hair grabbed his wrist.

"Wait!" a stagehand called out, "Razj, say, is this setting alright?"

"Ask Nico. My rehearsal has been delayed for so long."

"But Nico's gone!"

He moaned and shook his head. This seemed a jumble. "Do carry on without me. I shall be back once after I finished with the setting," he said to the woman, then turn to Vaan, "Mr. Vaan, please come along."

It was real labor and drudgery with Razj pointed his finger at this and that and Vaan just needed to do what others told. Once Razj had done directing, he joined the actors in their rehearsal.

"What sort of job does Razj do?" he asked a worker while they had a little time to rest.

"He's Nico's right hand. And Nico is the playwright and director here, in case you're new to the theater."

"Hey, you think how much is his pay?" said another worker, "I mean look at his dress. Archadian style is expensive!"

Their conservation started to flow like a broken dam. "It's a costume. Razj wore it for his role of the emperor. But he loved it so much he's wearing it all day."

"Yeah, he insisted that dress fitted for an emperor and asked of this and that. Faram, it's dead hard to please him!"

"You only said that because you haven't had to deal with Nico."

And they went on and on with Nico vs Razj until their break ended. Vaan gathered some information, though they were useless.

When the stage was somewhat complete, they started to rehearsal on the stage to check some mechanism. Vaan stood on auditorium and watched.

The play opened with a sage narrating his trip to kingdom of Ustrix where God blessed with a golden magicite on top of the tallest tower. Its luster light shall forever watch over the kingdom. They turned the mechanism and the stage set flipped to castle scene. Vaan was slightly proud to see it worked well. The beautiful Ustrix queen stepped in stating how serene her kingdom was thank to the magicite; then a servant came in and informed her that their neighboring Tortoise Empire was waging a war at them.

The gears clanked and boards stood for bushes and trees rose up from the floor. They had not completed the painting yet, but it was fine since they was testing the mechanism only. The queen was going for a negotiation with the empire. In the forest, she saw glimpse of a young man.

Here came Razj. He glided over the floor like it was made of ice, going around the woman in fluid circles, keeping a distance enough to see but not to touch. Vaan found his footwork gripping. His steps were short and brushing.

The beautiful queen focused at him as if he had been the only man in the world. "By thy walk it goeth blackest night, by thy eyes it streameth brightest light. Forswear it, O my sight, I say, for I ne'er saw true beauty to this day," she cried histrionically.

The play was based on an old tale about a king who fell in love with a queen in the neighboring country and lost his kingdom to her; it served as a sort of warning to monarchs. But he could not get what with their genders, they seemed switched, and kingdom of Ustrix and Tortoise Empire, what silly names!

Finally he stopped by her side and held her hand. "For my lady, I swear it just that I speak truth and thou must trust," Razj started to speak. His voice was dulcet like Cassie's breath carrying the mind in a hazy dream, and in that dream, lights suddenly blinked and went dark.

"Tolbi?" he called out; Vaan realized it was reality. The lights went out and the stage was black.

"Sorry, the stone ran out of energy," answered a voice.

"I believe extras have been purchased."

"Yeah, I should fetch them today but," Tolbi said jumped on the stage, "y'know the stage still needs lots of works."

"Thus you'd like me to go for you. Am I right?"

"C'mon, your acting was perfect. I felt like I'm standing in front of a real king right now. You need no more practice, not to mention that who want to practice in a dark room."

"Fine, I shall. You resume your job upper floor, we shall use the extra time to compensate for this."

"Roger!"

In Vaan's heart a hope of early leave was bubbling, but Razj asked him a last favor of today.

"You're a Skypirate, aren't you? It should be no difficulty for you to escort me to Nomad Village and back, I suppose."

Finishing this and he would be free, it sounded easy enough, and it gave him the chance to talk to him in private. Lost in desolate savannah, he might interrogate Razj at his leisure. So Vaan nodded agreeably and they made for the South Gate.

It was late in the afternoon, yet the sun had loosed just a tad of her grip of heat. Though Vaan took off his shirt while working in the theater, he was sweating and he saw buckets pouring from Razj.

"You must be crazy to wear that sort of clothes in Dalmasca, emperor wannabe," he commented.

"What drive you to believe that this dress fit for an emperor?" he replied, "as far as my knowledge, it's a retro style in Archadia."

Vaan did not know that, he only knew an emperor who dressed like that.

"Oh," Razj smirked, "you've met one, haven't you?"

"What about you? What make you insist that clothes fit for an emperor? You've met him?"

"Indeed I have," he answered to Vaan's surprise, "every day in my mind and imagination. What else you could ask of a playwright? I wrote thoughts and dialogues of an emperor."

"That won't do the trick," Vaan moaned, "not to mention the caricature, where did you hear tales about that well-concealed caricature?" He stepped towards Razj shepherding him to a giant boulder nearby. With his arm touched on the boulder cornering Razj, he continued, "tell me."

"Oh," Razj gasped, "quite a performance!"

"Huh?"

"Do you, ser, recall that I worked at the theater? I am but one of those who discovered the caricature in question."

Vaan backed down and scraped his head. That made sense. He could even be the painter of that caricature, who know?

"Did that satiate you?" he smirked, "shall we proceed?"

Vaan still felt something weird, fishy about this, but could not find any holes in his answer. It lingered in his mind until they reached the Nomad Village. The village stood with merely feeble wooden fences to divide it from the sands. It had been years since Vaan last trip to the Nomad Village; now he was foreign to its canvas shacks and tents.

"Faram blessed me, Razj, is that you?" a woman greeted them, "I'm about to go to the city to fetch you."

"I'm here for the sunstones. What's the matter?"

"Jinn hurt himself again!" cried the poor woman, "I'm sorry, but we don't have high-quality sunstones of your request. Still if you really want, I could give you some shadestones so you could make some yourself. I'm sorry."

"It's fine, Masyua. Let me see Jinn before we set for the sunstones."

"Thank you. We're in your debt."

Vaan was so bored that he sat in the tent just to hide himself from the scorching sun while Razj was mending the wound on the boy's leg. When he finally tied the dressing, he crossed two ends, made a loop, passed the other end through it and pulled.

"Here, that should so it," Razj concluded.

"Thank you, Razj. You're the best!"

"Cajoling me won't help it heal faster."

"I mean it really. The last wound healed in three days. I never see a thorny injury heal that fast."

"Do not take it as a reason to hurt yourself. Be more vigilant, please." Suddenly, he had a Penelo quality in his voice.

"Yeah, got it."

When it finally ended, he had to haul himself along Razj from hither to thither just to craft sunstones. He had been there once, and it was not the most interesting job. They had to go around Giza Plains to find Dark crystals and use shadestones to draw their energy. Razj seemed to know his rope and got a full charge on his first try.

Vaan yawned without bothering to cover his mouth. They were on their way back and he could not hide his listlessness. He hoped to face one or two real challenges like a werewolf, but they had not caught even sight of one. He swung his sword around trying to attract them.

"If you could, please stop it," Razj frowned at him, "your carelessness frightens me."

"Not that I'm gonna hit you," he said, sheathing his sword.

"For safety's sake. Such unwise behavior is to avoid."

Vaan looked straight at his face. Fair skin and red lips, he looked exactly a dandy boy of high cotton. The type of dude feared death more than anything. His gaze irritated the boy; he went away with a frown. Soon he regretted his doings; he stepped into the wrong place. A Werewolf was in front of him moving to his direction.

The beast was double Razj in both width and length. It had a luster purple hue hide. Vaan heard about a rare purple werewolf in Giza Plains. Seemed it was his lucky day while Razj found it was his worst day since his arrival.

"Many a man doesn't find this exciting," he observed at Vaan's eagerness and stepped back.

"Really?" he drew his sword, "but I do!"

Vaan struck first and hard on the Werewolf head, but it was hard like stones. He managed to cause a few loose hairs fall down. He slashed vertically and diagonally, and dodged and parried the counter. A sharp pain stung his shoulder. The fight aggravated the wound from yesterday and his weary limbs. Vaan almost forgot since they did not hurt anymore.

"Mr. Vaan, could you handle it alone?" asked Razj as he perceived Vaan's movement had slowed down.

Some cut on limbs reduced the beast's speed, but his attack also became scarce due to the wounded shoulder. The beast noticed his injured shoulder and put more pressure in it. A hit on old wound was the last thing he wanted to get. An open, all he needed was an open to strike on its mid torso and finish it.

Razj suggested they retreated. He, Vaan the Sky pirate, ran away from a monster. "No way," he shouted.

"Such haughty you are," Razj sighed and swung his extendable staff. With the tip of the staff he touched the werewolf on his fore head. "Close your eyes!" he shouted.

Vaan followed his words. Though his eyes closed, he still sensed a strong surge of light struck to his face. When he was allowed to see again, Vaan found himself ridiculously obedient to do as the shorty said. But the sight of the werewolf holding his eyes in agony relieved him that he did.

"Now," Vaan cried and gave all he got into a strike to the mid torso. Having finished it, he turned to Razj in amazement.

Razj was approaching the corpse of the monster, kneeled down with his arms crossed in front of his chest in a manner of praying. Vaan guessed he was a sort of priests who were not interested in killing.

That impression, which now Vaan thought back to, was wrong. He was killing himself by dragging his big game all the way back to the Nomad village. Vaan intended to tan its hide, which was going to fetch high a price, but Razj insisted they took it all. His verbose attack was so strong that Vaan agreed believing that carrying it would be less effort than countering him.

The game was butchered at the village. Vaan kept the hide that he wanted. All the meat was given to the village except a little that Razj took for his friend Nico. They gave them bags to carry and some cockatrice eggs in return. Not a bad bargain considering the happy, smiling village, and Penelo would love to have these eggs.

Masyua invited them to stay. They were holding a feast with the werewolf meat; to his surprise Razj declined it. But she offered him some mal cookies. She was so insistent that he had to reluctantly accept it.

"Mr. Vaan, do you like dessert?" he asked in low voice when they were on their way back to Rabanastre.

"Not quite," he answered. But Penelo and Kytes did. "You offer me those cookies?"

"If you want them. How about trying them before deciding? They're quite palatable."

Mal was pastry with fruit fillings. Vaan was not quite a fan of them, he preferred nut-filled kimanihs. "Hey, it's not bad," said Vaan in high voice. In fact, it was tasty comparing to Penelo's cook.

"If you like them, please take them all." He tucked them in Vaan's hand in a hasty manner.

"Why? I mean, they're somewhat tasty."

He sensed that he could not pass them to Vaan without an explanation. "Pardon my bluntness. It might just my personal preference, but Masyua ruined them. Firstly, she overbaked the dough; it lost the delicate rose fragrance. Then the fillings," he sighed, "the simplest is the likeliest to go wrong."

Vaan moon-eyed at what he heard. The boy was picky. He made the mals became so inferior. Suddenly the image of blissful Larsa sitting at the table with Penelo's cooks flooded his mind. _What do we have here? A ragged with an emperor's taste and an emperor with a ragged's taste. What a world!_

Speak of devil…They were back to the City. When Vaan thought he could finally call it a day, Razj widened his fish-eating mouth and ask for a lion share of the hide. Suddenly, Vaan grabbed Razj by the wrist and dragged him to a corner next to the Chocobo stable.

"W-What…"

"Shh," Vaan hushed. He furtively glanced to his back to have a glimpse of Penelo and Larsa going out the South Gate. She was hugging the rabbit. They must be releasing it back to Giza plains as planned for, though Penelo really loved the rabbit, their home was inappropriate to keep rabbit pets. Rabbits require quite a field to roam according to his limited knowledge.

They did not see him and went past. He sighed in relief as their shadows were disappearing. Vaan did not want Penelo caught him returning from a hunt. She warned him about his wound last night and asked him not to take any petitions. A lecture of safety from Penelo was something he would avoid if possible.

"Is that your friend?" asked Razj gazing curiously at the two. His look was still following them a while after they were gone.

"So what?" he answered tersely.

"No, nothing," the boy said. His eyes did not take off from where they left for a while. "Let us resume our negations," finally Razj said returning to his business demeanor, "one half is a fair share."

"No way, you took all the meat."

"That's because you don't want it."

Actually, it was because he thought that the hide for himself, the meat for the boy, seemed just enough.

"And I had to carry it all the way back."

"I did assist you…"

"But you soon tired after half of the way."

"Fine," the boy grunted, "how much will you sell it?"

"1,500" he named a price that he believed Penelo would say.

"Say if I can make a greater profit, how about me taking two fifths of it and the extra?"

It was an intriguing bargain. If he could sell the hide for more than 1,500 gil, he would take two fifths of it plus the extra. In other words, 600 gil plus the extra. However, if he could not, Vaan could have all he wanted.

A hand shake and they had the deal.

Vaan still could not believe it. They had sold it for 1,820 gil. Vaan took 900 gil, and Razj… well… 920 gil.

"I said one half was a fair share," he giggled; the coins chinked as he jigged his wallet around.

His shoulder hurt, his wallet hurt, his ego hurt the most still. _This shorty… got something._ "Now, can I have the tickets?" he grunted.

"Oh, please wait here for a minute," said Razj and ran away.

At first he thought that the boy went fetch the tickets, but they were in the bazaar and a ticket should be fetched at the theater. He came back shortly holding a bag of bottles and herbs. They found a spot where Vaan could sit still and checked his shoulder. The fight disturbed and reopened the wound. Razj used some herbs in combination with white magick to stop the bleeding, then bandaged and tied it with a neat brother knot. He was good at this, Vaan had to admit.

"Hey, thanks," he said awkwardly and helped the boy clean up. He just gave a faint smile and nodded in reply.

"Tell me, Mr. Vaan," suddenly he said while cleaning, "what exactly are sky pirates doing?"

"Um, we do many sorts of things," he stuttered at the out-of-nowhere question.

"Say you?"

"Well, I" finally he found his voice and spoke loudly and confidently, "I go for adventures and treasures. Don't mix me with the robber lot." Though he sometimes stole.

"Doesn't it make you a hunter?"

"Nonsense," he stood up, "we sky pirates fly!"

"Hunters flying in airships," he replied flatly. His chin rested on his palm and continued despite Vaan's protest, "You're a capable man. You could be a knight, I say."

Vaan scraped his head. That thought crossed him once. To walk the knightly road like Basch, to protect his homeland like his brother, it sounded nice. "Sky pirates have more freedom," he said and started to walk away.

"Freefolk ply the open skies and do as they please, I see." Razj said in disdain, stood up and followed him.

"Hey, that…" he tried to think of something to protest. Though it sounded like an offence, but the boy captured all the essence of sky pirates within his words. "Well, we can't stand feeling trapped, y'know."

Many who were trapped by war and poverty found the life of sky pirates as their escape.

"Running away is never a panacea."

"I'm not running away."

_Not anymore…_

"Or may I say betray? Your friend, you endangered yourself against her will. Am I right? Should a tragedy befall you, you neglect her, you betray her. You neglected your country in search of freedom. You betrayed your fatherland, didn't you?"

Vaan was speechless. He did not comprehend those 'betray' points, but he knew he turned his back on one person.

"Well, it's hard for you to choose between yourself and others," he continued in a less severe voice, "ignore the voice of your heart and you shall betray yourself. Life consisted hard choices; ones might have to disregard others to fulfill their needs."

The boy rambled on something more before they split up and returned to their home, but now when Vaan was half way back to Migelo's shop, he could not recall what Razj said or try the least effort to remind. His mind was just in a blue sky when misty veil of dust and gust fluttered against the screen of Strahl's cabin. He was sitting on the seat of pilot, Penelo the seat beside him and she behind him…


	10. I-9 The Golden Ring I

**9\. THE GOLDEN RING I**

Year 706, Old Valendian Calendar  
Sky above the Royal city of Rabanastre

The Strahl extended her wings and glided over the wind like a swift. Only a far stretch of Heavy Cruiser Alexander's black tail could be seen from afar now. Ashe leant forwards trying to collect the last glimpses of the cruiser and a friend who she felt like departing forever.

"So, Basch-ojisama really has to go with Larsa-sama?" asked Penelo after sight of Alexander completely disappeared. She still could not believe that they had left Basch and Larsa in the massive airship.

"We've come to a conclusion that there's no other way," Ashe replied in low voice as if her voice was lost after the speech of liberty.

"They're gonna do fine," said Vaan comforting both of them, "and so are we. Now let's make for Rabanastre."

This was the first time Vaan steered an airship without Baltihier's supervision. He recalled what he had been taught. It was a proper landing, therefore having approaching Rabanastre, he grabbed the hand-held microphone and called for the Rabanastre control tower. _Hope they're sane enough to work._

"This is, um, YPA-GB 47 'The Strahl' requesting a landing."

To his expectation, an air controller answered and guided them to the landing spot. The Strahl circled about the landing platforms, folded her wing and awkwardly flied down.

That was not the smoothest landing, but it at least worked and the Strahl, and they also, was in one piece when she arrived in the Aerodome. Vaan pressed the button to deploy the airstairs, and they were ready to make their appearance in the Royal city.

Ashe bit her lower lips. Rabanastre was her dear home, but it felt foreign today. She reluctantly stood up and made to the exit door. A few steps ahead of her, Vaan stretched his hand to assist Ashe descend the airstairs.

With Basch accompanying Larsa and Balthier missing in Bahamut, it all fell to Vaan to protect Ashe, and he sensed it. They were friends, and it was duty of friends to help each other. Ashe took his hand with a faint smile. Her hand still had a mild touch on it. They went downstairs.

They had fought together to defend Dalmasca, and they would stand together to rebuilt Dalmasca. Or that was he believed until their feet made it first step outside the Aerodome.

The Westgate familiar blue paved floor welcomed them with a throng of strange faces. It was the largest gathering of people he had seen since the new consul speech. They all dressed in fine clothes and long robes. When they saw the sight of Ashe, they all bowed and curtsied at the same time. Vaan felt his head hot; his heart beating fast. It was quite a scene.

However, what followed was anarchy. Friend or foe, before Vaan could tell, they rushed to Ashe's side and hauled her along. He and Penelo were pushed aside roughly and rudely. Their ears were buzzing by a great throw of 'your highness', 'my lady', and 'your majesty'.

Ashe was no better. She whirled around to find a familiar face in wide eyes just to see Vaan and Penelo was far behind her. She reached her slender hand out to them, and Vaan, too, tried to touch her hand with his. But there was a distance between them. A rift made by people.

_So this is how it should be_. That moment he realized the things stood between them and dropped his arm. Ashe still gazed at him moon-eyed. She tried harder to extend her reach, but eventually surrendered and gave herself to the flow of people towards the Royal Castle while Vaan turned his back and headed for his house.

Their gap, he could not make through then, now and forever. There was nothing he could do. From that moment on, Vaan started to mumble again stuff like 'I'm gonna be a sky pirate'. Not that he never mentioned them before, but it was different, so different that it dreaded him to come back Rabanastre despite his desperate homesick. The adventures were exciting, thrilling, and far too enough to keep his mind occupied until Penelo insisted to return Rabanastre.

* * *

Vaan opened his eyes then closed again. He felt the blue sky of Dalmasca looked down on him. The sky of that day. His mind was vacant. It has been three days and he still could not shake the thought out of his mind.

"Vaan," he heard Kytes called, an indication that he had overslept.

"Coming," Vaan shouted back in rough voice.

_It's time to work_. Against his expection, he was greeted by his folks – the full crew of Penelo, Migelo, Kytes, Filo and even Larsa.

"Good morning," Larsa greeted him with smiles. He started to act as if this was his home.

"Right timing, Vaan!" said Penelo. Her 'right timing' never seemed right to Vaan. He gazed at all small, round, rolled dough and little, circle, wrapped ones with big belly .They were gathering for making ombis and he had no doubt that Penelo was asking his help. "Lend us a hand," she confirmed his deduction.

Ombi was stuffed dough with meat fillings. It was boiled then served in broth. Making ombi was the perfect time for family to get together. But Vaan's ability in wrapping ombis was so good that he felt embarrassed doing.

"You seem have a fine crew here," he replied. Penelo and Migelo were in charge of rolling the dough; Larsa, Kytes and Filo wrapping (though the latter two seemed more like playing).

"You don't count Filo, do you?" said Kytes.

"Did you cross out Kytes?" said Filo, neatly at the same time.

Both of them were poor wrapper, maybe only better than Vaan. "Don't expect more from me. And I don't wanna take my gauntlet off," Vaan said, especially shortly after putting them on.

Penelo winced at his refusal. Obviously, she did not expect much from his terrible wrapping skill, what she really wanted was a time for he to solve his misunderstanding of Larsa's doing. Thus Vaan need not do anything, just sit here with them was enough, but he seemed unacknowledged of her intention.

"Ah," Larsa cried suddenly, "I forgot to remove my gloves."

That was something everyone but Vaan noticed, but they did not ask as they thought he did deliberately avoid contact with dust and flour.

"Have ever taken them off?" Vaan sat down on the chair next to Larsa and asked. The ombis laying on his left hand side were wrapped nicely and neatly and piqued Vaan's curiosity on how he did everything without taking his gloves off.

"I've been asked not to remove my gloves unless in extreme necessity."

"But your ombis look good," Kytes commented, "can't believe it's your first try!"

"Actually, this is not my first attempt."

"You told me your mother used to make ombis for you," said Penelo rolling the lasts of her dough, "it's amazing to hear that the em… Archadians know how to make ombis."

"Serious?" cried Vaan in surprise, "I mean omibis are common folk's things, but you're…" That was not to mention it was Dalmascan food. He caught a moon-eyed gaze of Migelo. It was hard when Migelo was with them. He did not hope to let Migelo know Larsa's identity, or Migelo would fluster with formalities like 'your majestic', 'my lord' if he were not scared to death.

"Say, you didn't talk much about your mother. How is she?" Vaan changed the subject. Family matter was also something he want to know, especially the late empress of Archadia, she held vital clues.

"She is no more."

"Sorry," Vaan said. No wonder why he did not say much about her.

"'Tis fine. 'Twas long ago."

"Done! I'm boiling them. Just a few minutes to dinner," Penelo had to again change the subject.

"Hope it's edible this time," whispered Kytes after Penelo went to the kitchen.

"Now, now, Penelo's cooking isn't bad," said Migelo.

"I think 'tis good," observed Larsa.

"Reaally?" cried both Kytes and Filo.

"I mean it used to be," said Kytes.

"Yeah, but it's terrible now," added Filos.

"Penelo-san's still an excellent cook to me," Larsa maintained his opinion despite Kytes and Filo's disappointment.

"Oh ho ho, we have another Penelo's cooking fan here," Migelo laughed.

"We all knew that Vaan's a liar," both Kytes and Filo said.

"Hey," Vaan protested.

"I am the only one who does think her cooking is excellent?" Larsa wondered with big eyes.

"For reaaaaaaaal?" screamed both Kytes and Filo.

"What so surprised if he like my cooking?" winced Penelo, overheard their chat. She came back with a big bowl of ombis in Cockatrice broth.

"Then eat more," Kytes eagerly started his breakfast by ladling more ombis into Larsa's dish.

"Thank you," he gladly accepted. Perhaps his passion for Penelo's cooking was genuine.

Someone was knocking at the door. Kytes ran opening it. It was Basch. He rushed towards Larsa right after the moment Kytes let him in.

"My lord," he said and whispered something to his ear.

"Take me to him," Larsa replied, and to Penelo and others he said: "My pardon, I must leave now." No more words and he had gone. He had not even touched his spoon, let alone eating his breakfast.

"I'm so glad that I still have some leftover," said Penelo. She would preserve them for Larsa's dinner. "Everyone, help yourselves to plenty."

"I remember something to do at the Home," Filo excused herself and ran away like a lightning struck right after finishing her bowl. Migelo was full after three bowls, and Penelo one. It downed to Kytes and Vaan. Kytes was on the last of his first bowl, Vaan his second.

"Eat more for you growth." Penelo ladled a big scoop into Kytes's dish. He stared at the giant bowl that Penelo made. The soup level raised to one half of it. Kytes gulped.

"C'mon, Kytes. If you don't want it, I'll eat 'em all," Vaan boasted and he really meant it. He gobbled his dish of ombis then moved to the big bowl. His heroic action reduced the massive number of ombis to only ones in Kytes's bowl, but no merit without work and no decision without… consequence.

"I'll ask Migelo for your leave," said Penelo. She glanced back at Vaan once more, trying to convince herself that it was because of quantity not quality that caused Vaan sick.

Vaan was lying flat on the couch. This position was hoped to assuage his nausea. Penelo brew for him a cup of tea which he drank a little but did not feel any better. He continued to recline until door knocks thrust into his ears.

_Who the heck might it be?_ He would to get up and see who it was if he did not load himself up with the heavy stomach. Whoever he was, he meant no harm, Vaan could tell it because he did not close the door at Penelo's request.

"The door is not closed. Come in," he shouted from the couch. _Hope it ain't Larsa_, a thought crossed his mind.

It was not Larsa, but a person resembled him. Vaan made out his familiar silhouette especially the black cap. They had conservation, but Vaan did not remember it well. All the food really grossed him out. Things were getting fuzzy.

"Mr. Vaan, Mr. Vaan," a voice called him.

His eyes were heavy; he could keep them open no longer. Everything started to dissolve into darkness until, suddenly, he felt something dull slammed onto his fore head.

"Ooouuuch!" Vaan screamed due to the pain. "Are you crazy?" He jumped up looking dagger at the burglar who hit him. There were two in the room. One was Razj, the other the page of Revenas.

"See? It worked," said Lige.

"Oh…" Razj gasped a trifle surprised.

"What are you two doing here?" Vaan shouted at them. The sudden jumping up worsened his upset stomach; now his irritation was compounded with an ached head.

"Will you drink this first?" Razj offered him a cup of liquid with an odd smell.

"What–"

"Just dink it!" shouted the page boy and shoved the cup into his mouth.

"Gah!"

Choke to death or drink the unknown, assumed poisonous, liquid. Both resulted in the same. However, at that time, Vaan could not think sensibly; his body followed its intuition and swallowed to avoid choking.

"What… did you…" he asked when finally retaining his voice.

"Help yourself," said Razj and offered him a glass of warm water.

He seized the glass and downed it Vaan was uncomfortable at first as the sludgy drink still lingered in his throat. After it completely went down, his stomach felt better. Now he returned to his sane state, he was heated with an urgency to know what happened.

"What're you two doing here?"

"Jeez, is that how you thank someone who has just helped you?" the page barked with his arms crossed.

"Now, Lige, let us finish what we came here for," said Razj. For the first time in his life, Vaan considered Razj as a reasonable being (comparing to the other brat). "Here are your tickets as I've promised."

"How did you know I'm here?" he asked taking the tickets.

"Forgot it, didn't you? You did not appear at the Home as we've appointed thus I asked Kytes."

Vaan swiped his nose. Razj had to come all the way here to hand him the tickets. "Hey, thanks," he said awkwardly.

"You're welcomed," replied Razj.

He got a good pair too, on weekend night, the perfect time for a date and an impeccable compensation. "Wait, what does this mean?" Vaan shoved the ticket to his face pointing at the dancing letters on the third lines.

"Name of the play. Can't you read it?" said Lige tersely, "Dance in the Mist."

"I asked for 'The pirates'," Vaan grunted. He was ready to tan their hides.

"I said that I would give you two tickets," answered Razj calmly.

"Did you hear that? Razj said he would give you two tickets and he did it," Lige fired at him like a charged dog protecting his master.

"Are you kidding me?"

"I believe your partner is going to love it," added Razj.

"If Razj says she is, then she is," followed Lige as he took a mal cookie and bit it.

"Hey, that's Penelo's," Vaan shouted when he realized a box of 'Reverie's Sweets' on the table with a tray of cups and teapot. Floral steam poured out from the spout.

"Your friend had a sophisticated sense of desserts and tea," Razj commented.

Actually, it was not bought by Penelo (it would be fine if it were), but Larsa's gift to Penelo while they were visiting Kassy's shop to give her the bellberries. The cookies were so pretty that Penelo felt ashamed to eat them (therefore they stayed untouched until now).

"My apology for using your kitchen without permission, but…"

"What's so wrong if we have a bit of cookies and tea while brewing you a mithium tea?" Lige cut in, "it took very long to cook it properly and you should be thankful for it."

"There's tea on the table, why don't you just drink it?" he pointed at a half-drank cup.

"Ne'er drink a cold cup of tea. That's my principle. Please don't be furious. I apologize. I shall pay for it," Razj replied even though it was Lige's idea to have them. After brewing the mithium tea, he returned from the kitchen and everything like it was seen now.

"This is what we deserved for walking all the way and helping him."

"It's not the matter of gil," said Vaan and repaid Lige a hit on his fore head. Even if Penelo didn't mind (which was likely), he was too mad at the brat to let this settle.

"You–" Both rolled up their sleeves and were ready for a fight.

"No, no, Lige," Razj held him back, "leave it to me."

"But he, he…" Lige tattled on him to Razj.

Razj would not interfere in if Lige were sure to win. But from his experience with Vaan, he did not want to carry his friend's body home. "Please," he said in a soft voice, "wait for me outside, will you?"

The boy growled at him before leaving unwillingly. Razj sighed after he assured himself no sight of Lige, and to Vaan he explained, "those tickets were the best I could afford. Take it or not. It depends on you. And the cookies and tea, I shall repay them."

He might be right that Penelo would love the play. "Fine. I'll accept them. But the cookies…" Vaan glanced at the box. Though it looked messy, the box missed only two or three cookies. He involuntarily rubbed his stomach.

"I could get you an identical box if you tell me where you've bought it." Razj prayed that it was not a limited version.

He sounded like a master having to pay for his pet's bad behaviors while Vaan was nagging him for more compensation. "Don't mind it," finally he quitted. It was the page boy that maddened him.

"But–"

"Just never mind it."

"Then can you tell where you've bought the cookies and tea. Such heavenly is the scent," he exclaimed as he bended down to smell. "I could try some when I have chance."

"That…" Vaan scraped his head, "I don't know. But if you want, take some." The box was opened and eaten anyway, so Vaan saw it was a compensation for the cookies Razj gave him last time.

"You're sure of it?" he hesitated to take Vaan's offer.

"Sure. Take it."

"Thank you," he grabbed one. It crunched and melted sweetly on his tongue. A spark of mirth shone in his eyes and a beam lit his face. His cheek turned rosy. Vaan could not explain but his gaze was anchored on him.

"This book," suddenly Razj cried and leant forwards to grab a book on the table.

It was the book that Larsa was always carrying. He forgot it when he left in hurry this morning it seemed. Razj rapidly opened it. His finger caressed over beautiful hand writing on the first page of the book. These poetic lines read provocatively:

Patient day and nights waiting for the scene  
when the time is nigh that I seize your queen.

However, Vaan's attention was anchored on the ring finger of his left hand. There was a mark like a ring glowing with mystic golden light. When Razj noticed the glow, he pulled back his hand and the light faded.

"I must go now," he excused himself.

"Wait," Vaan called out, "you… know Larsa, don't you?"

"Why don't you ask him?" he replied with a mysterious smile and quickly retreated.

Vaan would love to ask him if he had chance, but from his last experience he did not think that he could see Larsa until maybe next week. Nothing he could do to keep Razj for a question either. Therefore he sat silently and gazed at the tome for a short while. The cover inlaid with a golden crest of Solidor coiled serpents.

He was back to his normal condition now. The tea worked well despite its smell. He sighed and left.

Balthier and Fran were staying in Rabanastre for a while, so he decided to give the two a visit. The tiny cathedral was gazing at him pondering from faraway. 'If it might be fortune that Ashe coincides to be with the two' was his mind. Though Larsa was staying at his place, Vaan rarely met Basch, let alone Ashe. It was hard to feel how they were travelling together in the past.

To his disappointment, Ashe was not with Balthier and Fran, also he came across the sky pirates strolling on the streets of Rabanastre. They seemed not to notice his approaching. At first, Vaan intend to give them a surprise attack, but in the end decided to stalk them to see if Balthier would spot him.

The success in spying them satisfied him greatly. Vaan followed them to the Westgate and to Westersand before he was detected and lured around the sand.

"That's enough, Balthier," Vaan said coming out from his hiding place.

"Oh, that's what I ought to say. Enough of tagging along?" he replied.

"Yeah, I'll go straight. It wasn't coincidence, was it?" While stalking them Vaan noticed that they were making their way to the restricted areas in Westersand. His guts told him that they were after this from the beginning. Their reunion was not a mere coincidence.

"I must admit I didn't anticipate seeing you."

"Don't beat around the bush," he learnt his lesson from the last time. This word-saving sky pirate would not tell him the whole truth without a considerable amount of pressure. "You knew something about these sin… I mean mist stuffs in Westersand."

"Acting leading man," he smirked, "don't tell me you haven't noticed this resembled a dear relic of ours?

"Deifacted Nethicite. Like what the Midlight Shard caused to Nabudis."

"Yea, and the underground palace we found was where the researches were conducted. Quite a mess they left."

"They want to create something to the power of deifacted Nethicite. But why?"

"I think you would care for another question more," said Fran.

"Yea. By that she meant: Who? Who might be capable and wish to seek for such power?"

The possible answer narrowed down greatly. There were not many who knew the rarified crafting of deifacted and manufactured Nethicite…

* * *

Her long shadow stretched on the street as Penelo returned from her practice. Just near a week since they officially chose her, and she asked for an early leave. But she could think of no other way, Vaan need special treatment for crapulence and also a change of bandage. The cup of sleepgrass that she brewed in the morning should be enough for him to sleep peacefully until she could come back and take care of him.

"I'm home," she said and opened the door. As she would expect, Vaan did not close it as she told, and against her expectation, Vaan was nowhere to be found, but her gift box of mal cookies was partially eaten and left on the table with a tea pot.

"How come?" she said almost screamed.

While Penelo was flustering and whirling around to find Vaan, a big slam hit the door and panting Larsa ran into the house. He rushed to the dining table and relieved to see the tome was still on it.

"Larsa-sama?"

"I'm back… for…" he gasped and pointed at the tome.

Penelo was about to ask if he saw Vaan, but had a second thought. It was unlikely. She went into Vaan's room. He was not there either. When she came back, Larsa reclaimed his voice and asked her whether anything wrong.

Nothing really wrong, it was just Vaan's typical disappearance. Since Penelo did not see any potential danger in Rabanastre – except the theater secret activity which Larsa had kept an eye for her, she simply wanted to find Vaan to ask about the mess on the table.

"I didn't expect that you loved them so greatly," he remarked about the cookies as Penelo carefully put them back to the box and cleaned the table. "Kassy-san is testing her new recipe and asked me to come and taste. Would you care to join?"

With no better plan, Penelo agreed.

"How was your work?" asked Penelo as they were strolling through East end, "You left in hurry this morning."

"'Twas fruitless," he sighed, "the clue led to nowhere."

Larsa held his book up and fiddled it in deep thought. He was always bringing it along wherever he went since coming Rabanastre. Penelo was curious to know what it wrote about. But she remained silent all the way.

The shop stood out in distance with colorful tiles and flowers. It looked like another world comparing to dark, woody door of the Sandsea. From the transparent windows, the lady of the sweet house welcomed them with a smile.

"Welcome to Reverie's Sweets," her shop assistant greeted and opened the door for them.

"Oh, is this your… friend?" Kassy asked as she perceived Penelo stepped into the shop. She realized she was the girl with Lamont when he brought her some bellberries.

"Her name is Penelo," Larsa introduced, "I believe that you would need as many opinions as possible, thus I asked her to come along."

"Penelo, it is… a pretty name," she said somewhat awkwardly, "I'm Kassy. Now let me hear what you have to say about my new Blama."

A table overlaid with linen was arranged for them. The shop assistance brought one more dish of jiggly white custard and put it on the corner of the diamond-shaped floral cloths on the center. Kassy pour purple bellberries syrup on the Blama and they were ready to be served with a cup of matching-color Plox tea.

"How does it taste?" Kassy leant forwards eagerly.

"Wow, it's so good," Penelo exclaimed. It was creamy and sweet balanced with a tinge of tangy and fruity flavor of the bellberries, perfumed with delicate rose aroma and contrasted with crunchy texture of flakes of roasted zignuts. "I wished I could cook such delights."

"And?" Kassy turned to Larsa nervously.

"The flavor is enhanced, but something was not quite right," Larsa observed. He showed much more meticulousness than ever. "The syrup ought to be sweeter. The tea and the dish compete in the taste."

"Yes, I'm afraid of that, therefore I reduced the sweetness. I couldn't think of any good tea to pair," she flopped on the chair.

"Do you consider wine?"

Then rose again at his suggestion. "Wine?"

"Yes. In Archades, we would pair blanc-mangier with a glass of dessert wine. Fleur d'Orange is a good pair, but if you refer a non-alcoholic drink, what about limoberry tea?"

"Limoberry tea?"

"That's a popular tea in Ordalia," said Penelo finding her voice at last in their conservation.

"Andrion Region makes the best limoberry tea," continued Larsa

"That's worth noting," said Kassy satisfied with his useful suggestion.

They continued on tasting a few more desserts. Each of them received strict criteria from Larsa. It never occurred to Penelo that Larsa was picky at what he ate as he always praised her cooking highly. Penelo had no doubt that she could never reach the same level with Kassy, but Larsa would not lie to her…

"Penelo-san?" Larsa called her mind back. They left the sweet shop. "If you have time, may I ask a flavor of you?" He asked politely.

"Sure. What's it?"

"I'd love to have you accompanied me to one more place."

Her shadows scattered like a pale flower on the paved street. The stars were emptied from the heaven and put into street lights and she was among starry night. It lived up to its name: Northlight. Avangarde Auction House was in the junction of East End and Northlight. It was an old three-story house with a giant chocobo statue in front of it.

They went inside the famous auction house to a spacious hall where the artifacts could be seen one last time before the auction started. Larsa held her hand and they slid through the crowd. He took her to a ring in glass bell and asked if it was to her liking.

"Wow," Penelo gasped, admiring the golden ring. Light was reflected on its mirrored surface creating the fey luster of the ring. It was made of twelve perfectly polished bands intertwined. No gem or jewel, yet it held an elegant beauty that Penelo could not put into words. "It's so beautiful," was all she could utter.

Larsa smiled contentedly at her expression and the ring. As Penelo had been here, she was invited to be with Larsa in the auction. They sat on middle seats of the auction room. All the items up for bid were Archadian artifact from every region and in every style.

In most of the auction, Larsa was just sitting silently and observing other bidders. The ring was next to the last put in the stand for bid. Fil du Destin was the name; a masterpiece of the famous Archadian jeweler Carter Cie Picardy, of whose works Larsa was an avid collector.

He raised his card to join when the bid had risen to 23,500 from its start of 7,000 gil. Penelo sweated. Not that she never saw a luxurious piece of jewelry, in fact Vaan and she had snuck into many manses and seen a lot. But to think she spent 22,700 gil for Larsa's room – the new curtain, daybed and writing table, and considered it to be a remarkable pay while someone could pay that same amount for a finger ring. And _someone_ was sitting next to her.

"26,500 now, would you bid ,27,000. 27,000 now."

The count kept rising, but slowed down a bit after it reached 27,000 gil. There were only two enthusiastic bidders left: Larsa and the gentleman sat far on their left. He glances at his competitor. He was discussing with the lady next to him.

Suddenly Larsa skied the price to 30,000 gils. "Would you bid 30,500," the auctioneer repeated until the last call, and "sold!" Hit the mallet to the hard wooden surface of the stand and followed with a ceremonial applause.

One lot left on today auction. A mysterious objet d'art revealed only in the auction day. They had to wait for the bid to end before claiming the ring. _And paid the pretty gils_, thought Penelo, secretly glanced at Larsa fingers. He comfortably rested his right hand over his left on his lap. Two rings were on his right hand. On his index finger was a silver ring carved with the Imperial Seal and a monogram, presumably combined from first letters of his name. Contrast to the fine-crafted signet ring, the other ring caught her attention with a tourmaline stone and nothing else.

Penelo was still staring at his hand when the last item was put.

"The last lot is a locket worn by the late empress. It is believed to contain great magickal power. What am I bid for this treasure?" the auctioneer introduced it.

Penelo looked up to find a plain pendant hanging on a stand by a black velvet ribbon. It was hard to imagine an empress would wear such a simple gold and ebony locket.

"Impossible!" Larsa cried, "this locket…"

The bid started at 12,000 gils and rose by thousands. It went smoothly for a while until Larsa recovered from his shock. He held his card skywards and bid. "3 millions," he said the number that the locket realized.


	11. I-10 The Golden Ring II

**10\. THE GOLDEN RING II**

It had turned out quite a clamor that night. The city whispered about a single lot that realized 3 millions gils and a young noble that resembled you-know-who. The rumors were creeping every corner of Rabanastre.

"Tell us, tell us," urged Kytes.

"Yeah, what did you and Lamont win?" asked Filo.

Filo rushed to their home at the first ray of new day and asked Kytes if he knew anything involving the new rumor. They imagined it must be a majestic treasure. Vaan was too curious about the lot in question, a jewelry that prized millions of gils. He was not surprised to find the bidder was Larsa, Archadia was famous for her rich gentry, but to find Penelo with him at the auction was somewhat new to him.

"It's just a ring," said Penelo holding the gold and silver ring box tightly as if she let it loose and the ring would fly out of it like a butterfly, "and it was not the one in the rumor."

She felt guilty calling it 'just a ring'. The ring fetched tens of thousands gils.

"I still can't believe that he gave it to me."

Shortly after claiming it as if he had planned it from the beginning.

"34,500 gils!?"

"Show us!" cried Kytes and Filo at the same time.

"Just a glimpse, okay?"

"He bought himself a 3-million piece and gave you a trinket worth chump change. What so important?" Vaan groaned.

"Well, actually, Larsa-sama didn't pay for the locket…" Penelo mumbled. Perhaps he planned not to pay from the beginning. But the ring, it was real intention, and he gave it to her. What was unimportant?

"What did you say?"

"It made no sense if he had to pay for something belongs to him," continued Penelo. She touched softly on an engraved a pair of wings on the lid; her mind was wandering to last night, after the auction finished.

_Thump, thump._ His heavy stamps echoed through the hall. Penelo ran after him. They rushed to claim the lot right after the auction ended. His expression was so grim that she dare not to say a word.

"Tell me who sells this locket," he ordered.

"That, ser, we could not divulge the identity of the seller," the poor salesman replied, "now allow me to assist you to claim your objet d'art."

Larsa took a cheque, wrote a three with six zero after it and signed. "3 millions. If you wish to complete the bid, show me him who sells this locket."

"I'm afraid, ser, that it's against our rules and regulations."

"Rules? Let us uphold the rules. This locket belonged to her Excellency the late empress of Archadia. Do you conceive your crime and punishment of selling stolen regalia?"

"Regalia?" came a voice from their behind, "I'm afraid that you overstated it, young ser."

"You are…" Larsa looked at him in astounishment.

"The seller of this very lot I am." That was a man on his twenties. He walked towards them with his hands on his pocket and shot a steel cold gaze at Larsa. "A mere trinket isn't worth the name of regalia. Not to mention that its wearer was a concubine."

"She was the twelfth _Empress_ of Archadia," Larsa rebuked with a sharp frown, "I never regarded you as a thief, Mernard."

Mernard darted his eyes back to Larsa trying to recall where he had seen this face. The tanned wide frilled collar of his shirt rubbed against his fingers as he scraped the back of his neck. "You are?" he asked with a curious frown.

"By the name of Sors, you're stating that you can't recognize him?" entered another man with salt and pepper hair. He asked the salesman to retire and let them alone. "Can't recognize your own emperor and you put me into shame, my son," he continued.

"Now enter the real thief," said Mernard and whirled around; there he saw Penelo looking at him with moon-eyed gaze. "Quite a play it's become. I'd excuse myself if I were you, lady," he said to Penelo, "involvement in royalty scandal is the least desirable thing one might want. Now if you'll excuse me."

He bowed to greet Penelo and left. "Mernard!" the elder man called.

"You might have the trinket if you want," he answered without turning back. "It was your theft after all." Mernard just made a mistake to think it was a possession of his late mother and wanted to get rid of it as soon as he realized it was hers. _He'll fly all the way to Rabanastre only for a mere trinket, but not for her deathbed. _The thought accelerated him fleeing the auction house despite his father's call.

When he was out of his voice, he turned to Larsa and bowed, "My sincerest apology, your Excellency and Magister. Pray forgive my son's rudeness and… mistakes."

Larsa gave back a shallow bow. "I didn't expect you here," replied Larsa, condoning the theft of the empress's locket.

"It's for her locket," he turned to the locket and caressed it with his fingers before he gave it to Larsa. "It should return to where it belongs."

"I thought that I've lost it with my brother," he said and held the locket with care. The locket was carefully clicked open to reveal portrait of a fair woman.

"This is…" asked Penelo curiously peeped inside the locket.

"It's my mother's locket."

"So, this is your mother?" she cried and surveyed the portrait. She had the same steel black tresses that flowed over her slender shoulder like a mantle.

"They both possessed the deep eyes of sea," commended the magister, "eyes that held the greatest wonders of waters."

"Oh," Penelo gasped.

"Uncle Luc," Larsa blushed a bit. "Have you read the report?"

"We could discuss it further at the Guild of Mages."

"I shall come after I've seen my friend home."

"I see. Please excuse me," he sent a mysterious grin at Penelo and left with a bow while Larsa stayed to take her home.

"I'm fine," said Penelo. "I can go home myself."

"No man would leave a lady alone to fend for herself. Moreover, I have a ring to claim," he replied.

30,000 gils hammer price. Penelo gulped as Larsa disposed of the 3-million cheque and wrote a new one of the value of 34,500 gils, the final payment included buyer's premium. The poor salesman received the cheque carefully with both of hands and they were free to go with their prized ring.

Penelo still could not believe this little ring fetched for 34,500 gils and was wondering if it held any power. She was even more surprised when Larsa took out a small silver and gold chest box. Inside it was a little bigger ring in the same style but made of sterling silver. He gently fitted the golden ring into the silver one and their thin bands intertwined perfectly forming one ring.

"Its true form," he said and put it back on the black velvet-lined box. "Penelo-san, for you," he handed her the box with the ring, "may it bring you good fortune."

"W-What?"

She was now astonished still after a night. The box clicked open. A pool of silver, gold and pink glitters poured out from it.

"Wow…" Kytes gasped at the entwined silver and gold thin bands. "It's so simple." There was not even a gem on it.

"What power does it have?" wondered Filo.

"It, er, holds no special power."

"What?" screamed Vaan, Kytes and Filo.

Vaan could not get why Larsa would buy a plain and regular ring for such a high prize. "Has he lost his mind?"

"It's beautiful," Penelo observed. When she first saw it, something in the ring touched her so deeply. Faint but intense, something ineffable.

"A beautiful ring it is indeed," said Migelo. But he was troubled with their little guest. He told Migelo that he came here for family business and the cost of this tiny ring made him wonder what sort of business it was. "But it's time to work."

"Oh, right. I have to make up for yesterday leave," cried Penelo. The box was hastily closed and carefully stowed away in the drawer in her room.

"Be good, Vaan," Penelo told him as a mother to her child and left before Vaan could open his mouth and give her the tickets. However, Vaan was not in hurry. The performance was due this weekend night. He had time.

As usual, Vaan started his day with a delivery to the Sandsea. There he stopped briefly in front of the billboard and was greeted by Tomaj. His perfume was even more choking today. Vaan could not believe that his plan of a sweet play did work.

"Lamont is the least to worry. He knew his limit and gave up. Of course, how could he best a charming man as I am?" he declared proudly. Then he looked at Vaan in a somewhat worried expression. "But, buddy, you had the most to worry. My beloved Kassy told me he had a girl in his mind," he pulled Vaan closely and whispered, "believe me, it's Penelo."

"You crazy?" Vaan said in high voice. Larsa had a crush on Penelo. That was the last thing he could think of. The sky would fall before he could fall for Penelo.

"He admitted that."

"WHAT!?"

Actually, there was no real declaration or confession from Larsa yet, but by impeccable deduction and intelligence, Tomaj came to the conclusion that Larsa had fell for Penelo.

Everything started with the very ticket of "Put thy sweet hand in mine". To help things short, Tomaj skipped all the details on how perfect their date was and jumped to after the play. He accidentally mentioned Lamont and what followed was the most unexpected. She told him that Lamont once confided the reason behind his passion for dessert to her.

"Guess what? He has a friend who loves dessert and wants to find a gift to please _her_," said Tomaj. "_Her_," he repeated, "and who got his gifts since he was in Rabanastre?"

"Penelo," Vaan replied reluctantly. In fact, it was only Penelo.

"Now you see it," he whooped, "If you need a shoulder to cry on, I'll be here for ya."

"That said nothing," Vaan brushed this aside.

He walked away and heard no more from Tomaj. It was noon when he came back at the shop. Vaan was supposed to work hard and make up for yesterday, yet no much to be done. His mind was wandering like a sleepwalker. In the end, he decided to duck out and went home to wait for Penelo. Her practice ended before the shop closed, so she could go home and prepare the dinner ahead.

But today, Penelo did not return alone. Larsa came to see her practice and they go shopping together before going back.

"I'd love to see," smiled Larsa. They seemed to have a friendly chat.

"Oh, hi Vaan," Penelo greeted Vaan, who was sitting idly, "you're home early today."

"Ah," he nodded and turned aside.

As usual, Penelo hid herself in the kitchen making the dinner. Larsa was eager to help if she did not insist, almost forbid, that he, and Vaan also, did not go or even peep inside the kitchen. Penelo was trying a new recipe and did not want them to see the mess she would create.

Vaan wondered why he was always getting Larsa whenever he needed talking to Penelo. Larsa was seating opposite him (again) fiddling with his book. On his left was a box of Reverie's Sweets assuming for Penelo. He really did bought a lot of sweet gifts for Penelo.

Larsa leisurely opened the first page of his loved tome and caressed words that Vaan could not read from his side. But a glitter caught his eyes – a golden ring on his left hand. When he stared at the ring, he felt as its coiled serpents gazed back at him. He had a collar brooch and still craved for a ring bearing the simplified symbol of House Solidor.

"What's so funny?" Vaan asked as he realized Larsa was chuckling softly.

"Oh, it's just the book."

Vaan strained his eyes to read what it might say. Smudged letters above his fingers were heard in his mind word by word:

Or it'd be the time when the king shall weep  
at his precious lost to the maid of keep

It appeared to be the reply to the two lines above which said something about seizing the queen; Vaan found nothing amusing about it.

"Speaking of which, do you know any…" Vaan was to ask about Razj, but found himself at lost, unsure how to describe the boy. "Um, I mean you have a friend who's around your age? Don't see you have many friends."

"Think you should take full advance of your time here and make a lot of friends," said Penelo walking out of the kitchen with a teapot and cups and set them on the table. "Maybe you could find yourself a girlfriend."

"What?" he flustered. His cheek turned rosy. "T-That's improper. I was… erm…" his voice diminished.

"It's normal to have a girlfriend at your age," Vaan backed her; Larsa was fifteen after all.

"Is it more normal for you to have a girlfriend in respect of age?" he deflected it to Vaan.

"Hey!"

"And those tickets serve the purpose, don't they?" he asked before Vaan could make more protest.

"No, they're…" Vaan struggled to explain it, "I have a friend who works at the theater. He gave me a couple of tickets. So if any of you are interested." He showed them a ticket.

Larsa took the ticket, and Penelo leant forwards to read it with him.

"Dance in the Mist, the play that you told me you'd love to watch," said Larsa tilting towards Penelo.

"Yeah, but it's the same time as our date."

"I shall be fine on my own."

"No, I can't let you go there alone."

"Wait," Vaan cut in, trying to voice himself in the conservation, "what date?"

"We're gonna watch a play on the same time," said Penelo, "sorry."

"You ought to watch it with Vaan-san. It's rare to see such performance," he remarked and smiled at Vaan.

Penelo would be more than pleased to sit on auditorium of the play, but it was too risky to let Larsa go alone Beneath Aminestié Theater. The dilemma was tormenting her. She looked Vaan in the eyes and pressed her lips together.

"Sorry, Vaan," she declined sliding the ticket towards him, "you'll have to find another."

"Penelo-san," Larsa sighed, "you don't wear the ring that I gave you."

"It's too valuable."

"You must take a chance."

"I am."

Her resolve convinced him and Larsa said no more word on the matter.

"It's called Fil du Destin," the voice of Larsa echoed on her mind. Penelo's mind was whisked back to after the auction. He presented the ring to her, but she declined.

"They said that it brings people together," he continued, gently lifted her hand up and try the ring on her ring finger. It felt on her fingers like a knot tied perfectly; not tight nor loose, just right as if it was made for her. "Excellent," he gave out a contented smile.

She was perplexed. "Larsa-sama, I can't…"

"Please take it as my reward for the bill and a quid pro quo. I brought troubles between you and Vaan. May it bring you together."

Penelo heard that things in Archadia had not been in his favor, yet Larsa wished them happiness even in his misfortune while all in her concern was Vaan's safety and her own fear of being alone. Friends were supposed to help each other and Larsa was her friend. It was not only for Vaan's sake that she should worry about but also her friend's.

The ring gleamed back at her from the crack opening of the box. Penelo decided. She would go down the theater and saw by her own eyes what they were doing in the dark for the sake of them both. _May it bring me good fortune. _

Penelo retired to her room soon after the dinner. Larsa was still gazing after her worriedly. She had been depressed recently.

"I'm surprised at how unperturbed you're," observed Larsa noticing Vaan's relaxation.

"Penelo has acted like that a lot. She would be normal soon," Vaan said leisurely. His only concern, if he had any, was what to do with the now-useless tickets. He asked if anyone might be interested but got no positive answer. Maybe he should return them to Razj. _Razj…_

"Say, Larsa, how was your staying so far?" asked Vaan, "I knew this was not the first time you've been to Rabanastre, but you don't often live with common folks."

"I'm enjoying my staying."

"I don't see you have many friends around your age. Is it the same in Archadia?"

"Well, I once knew one…" he replied. His eyes shifted around. "It's gone this late unnoticed," he said and unconsciously twisted the serpent ring on his ring finger. "If you'd excuse me."

Quickly, he too retired to his room while Vaan still had many questions to ask about his mysterious friend and Mist stuffs in Westsand.

"What's wrong with him?" he wondered out loud.

Everything turned foul when it came to his relation and acquaintances. But thinking back on his unclear father, his very existence was raveled with secrets and scandals. Vaan failed to notice it from the beginning that his name was a lie and wondered how many lies still hid under his façade waiting to be unraveled.

* * *

_ This is the ring in golden gleams  
with lasting vow that tieth our love  
May it bring us eternal dreams  
of hand in hand allied kingdoms_

Razj rested his chin on his palm. He had been rewriting the scene, yet it was still somewhat ugly. He read it again _The ring… I, too, possessed a ring._ He thought and touched his neck, unraveling the thread of chain laid under his shirt. His finger ran along the chain to find a golden ring in shape of coiled serpents.

He dropped himself on the back of chair. His mind ran over the plan again.

_Am I doing it right?_


	12. I-11 Precious

**11\. PRECIOUS**

Larsa felt something wet and warm on his face. He was lying on cold stone floor. His throat was burning and red with marks like gnarled branches. His eyes were bleary.

He reached his hand to a boy near him. Wet and warm and red, it was his reply, staining his white glove. He tried to look up. A stray of bistre hair slit the other's face into two halves.

He breathed last of the air from his lung, but his voice was lost in the spacious hall.

"No…" he whispered in weak voice, "L-L…"

He heard footsteps. Someone was coming. Friend or foe? It was unimportant. His attention was anchored on the bistre-haired when he heard a call.

_Lord Larsa!_

The dreamy call woke him up. Larsa was sitting at the desk in his room, safe and alone. His gloves were dry; no stain or mark could be detected on them. He rubbed his neck. It was just a bad dream. He swiped the sweats on his forehead. It had been a long time since he last had that sort of dreams.

_I don't see you have many friends around your age…_

Larsa recalled what Vaan said last night. His fingers involuntarily reached for his serpent ring. He was around his age. Once. If the incident had not befallen them, he might have been here with Larsa.

_How would everything become if it had not? _

He sighed. Larsa had no time to think about the past when the future was shooting ahead of him. It was time to work.

It was decided that Penelo would be with Larsa; Vaan had to find another partner. But it would be better if he could return the tickets for some gils. Vaan was walking back after a delivery; he could drop by the theatre on the way (though it meant taking a moogling transport and walking for another ten minutes). Rumors of the 3-million lot were whispered on the streets. He had to admit the ring that Larsa gave her was something to them, yet to his Excellency, it was just a chump change. An emperor was still an emperor, and commons were just commons. Vaan thought bitterly of their gaps.

A blue glitter of caught into his eyes. It was of an indigo pendant displayed behind a glass window. It was a round-stoned pendant with a simple thread-thin coil. Comparing to treasures that Vaan once got his hand on, this pendant was just a trinket. He had seen many precious gems and jewelry on his adventures, yet he never really possessed one.

"What a coincidence!" an epicene voice startled him. "A gift for your girl?"

Vaan immediately realize whose it was. He did not expect to meet Razj here. "Nope."

"You assure? I've heard of your friends's clamor in the auction house."

"What're you doing here? Don't you have the job at the theater?" asked Vaan.

"Yes, but I do have a day-off."

"Say," he added, staring at the tickets in Vaan's hand, "how is your date?"

"She's busy," he replied in sudden familiarity. "Hey, you think can I return them?"

"Not worth your effort. But I knew someone who would buy them for a good price. How about," Razj started his bargain, "one half of the money?"

He could think of any methods to earn money. "Better than nothing," Vaan did not haggle this time, "but with one condition. You'll take me with you."

"It'll cost your precious time."

"Who know what real bargain you might strike behind my back?"

"Well, I don't mind having an escort for myself," he smiled and walked away.

Vaan followed him to the Estersand. They arrived at the Outpost. To his surprise their customer was someone he knew – a man named Dantro, who was his petitioner of a hunt for a flowered cactite.

"Thanks, Razj! You really found them! My wife's gonna love it."

"Watching the play with your wife?" asked Vaan.

"Nah, you know women," he whispered, "have to keep an eye on them or else the pot's gonna be cold."

"You heard?" said Razj and nudged his arm. Vaan pushed him aside.

"This is not much but please take it," he said and handed Razj some coins, "and the provision, just tell my wife and she'll give you."

"Thank you, Dantro."

It came to the part that Vaan had been looking forward. Razj gave him his part. Dantro gave him 100 gils in total, so it made 50 for each of them.

"You're kidding me?" Vaan frowned at him, "You sold two tickets for 100 gils?" He did not know much about theater stuffs, but enough to know two regular tickets would cost 200 gils in the theater.

Razj looked away coyly.

"What's the provision?" asked Vaan. Razj must have received more than just 50 gils.

"One of my payment for the ticket. Don't look at me with such eyes. I said one half of the money, didn't I?"

Vaan did want to squeeze his little neck. It always ended up like this whenever he was with this shorty.

"But if you wish to have your part," he added putting his hands between them, "perchance you'll come with me?"

Vaan sensed that he had walked right into the trap. First, he lured Vaan to come along. After a long walk on sand, South Bank Village showed from distance at last. There they met Dantro's wife and received the provision. Then he was persuaded to help transport it to the city. Vaan could not explain but he nodded like a fool as if Razj put him into a spell.

_A spell…_ Vaan glanced at the belt clasped around his waist, from which hung an extendable staff and a dagger with shagreen-covered hilt. Now he recalled that Razj might be a sort of mage. But one need not be a mage to shepherd others.

"Why don't you rent a chocobo for this?" he asked while they were resting. They had returned the Home safely. Luckily, no acquaintance had seen Vaan pulling the cart like a transporting chocobo.

"Gurdy isn't overgenerous when it comes to transporting goods. Moreover, it'll be too hard for poor birds."

"Won't it be too hard for me?" he winced, "that's what they feed them for."

"And you think you could use them as you please because you feed them?"

"Why not?"

"Then why not?"

"You don't say…"

"Bingo! Your reward: a meal."

"You little brat," he winced and knocked on his head. Razj put his hand around his head to hold the hat in place.

"Well, if you wish to…"

"You don't say you have another offer for me?" Vaan cut in.

He replied with a smile.

_Why did I end up carrying for him again?_ Vaan wondered after delivery a bag of foodstuffs and herbs. _Just for zignuts?_

"Don't make that face. Carrying a bag for 300 gils. Many would gladly accept the job," said Razj.

"It ruins my reputation."

"Oh, who are you again?"

Vaan glanced at him. He had a point, though, Vaan was not famed enough to be recognized wherever he had been. They crossed the same jeweler's on their way back and again blue glitters shot into his eyes. Despite its simple craftsmanship, a luster was present in the stone.

"Like it?"

"Dunno." Maybe he should find a way to get it.

"Mm. I say you ought to go for this," he said suddenly and dragged Vaan to a trinket stall nearby. He pointed at a blue-glittered stone. The color was rare for a pebble, but a pebble was still a pebble.

Vaan was not interested at first in buying any pieces of accessories, but the choice of the boy intrigued him. "Why?" he asked, "it was just a cheap pebble." He thought Razj got a better taste.

"What make you think it cheaper than one in the store?" asked Razj.

"The store looks better. You could easily tell."

The poor girl vendor's face turned pale at what he said. She mumbled something but could not make them into words.

"What make a precious, say, precious?"

This Razj was always having quiddity.

"Powers," he replied confidently at his knowledge on accessories and equipments. Numerous accessories came with a description of its special powers and properties, though some of the claims could not be verified.

"I say people."

"People make every treasure treasured, every desire desired and every disgust disgusted," the boy furthered.

"But isn't the power that makes everyone desires it?" he asked. His brow furrowed at something he half-agreed, half-disagreed.

"The power is for people to discover and deploy," he smirked and turned sharply to the unhappy vendor. "I'll take it," he said and put a 10-gil coin on the stall.

"Thank you, sir," the now-happy girl clumsily fished into her pouch for the change.

"Please keep the change."

"Buy a pebble for 10 gils. You must be in ecstasy," commented Vaan after they had been a considerable distance from the street vendor.

"I think it worth it. Lovely, isn't it?"

"But worthless."

"People make a value valuable," he said in a soft voice with a smirk. The pebble was held between his palms and drew to his chest. "Precious light, be our armor," he chanted. Tiny sparkling escaped from the rift between his fingers.

He handed Vaan the pebble with its gleam now faded. "Keep it. Some day more preciousness shall lie within it than the blue gem."

Vaan lifted the stone skywards and looked it under the sun. It still remained the same, ordinary pebble. "Serious?" he said in low voice and stowed it away in his pocket.

"Hey," Vaan called out, "I have to go back to work. See ya."

"What a shame. Please wait, Mr. Vaan. Are you free in the morrow night?"

Penelo would go with Larsa; he also sold the tickets. "So what?"

"If you're interested," he handed him a ticket with a big depict of a tortoise wrapped around by two snakes. It was 'Emperor of Tortoise'. This must be the play that he helped for two tickets.

"Sure." Vaan swiped his nose. "See ya there."

Razj smiled at him and bowed slightly before he turned to leave. He, too, had to go back to his work. But he had to be vigilant. _He _was scouring the theater for him. Tomorrow was nigh. Razj did not want to be caught right before the performance. Therefore, he took the safe route and returned to Nico's house.

_One more day._

He read one or two books to kill the time. Nico had many novels and plays which made great references. He scraped a rusty mark on the spine of the book on his desk. It was a romance, not the sort of books that Razj often read. But it was his mother's favorite.

His mind was back to his six-year-old self. He was held in a cell as black and empty like a moonless night with no window to tell time or feel a soft breeze. A red glow like a wisp was approaching him. Yet he sat still as if he had hoped it would come and take his breath away. Until it came close enough to show a face that he realized.

"It's me, Uncle Luc," hushed the face, "I'll bring you out of here. First, you need a change of clothes."

Razj stretched his hand to feel the soft fabric. It was impossible to make out what the stack of cloths truly was. He touched fingers of the hand that gave him the clothes. It was small, nearly as his size. It was not Uncle's, it could not be. He headed up to see a child around his age. His eyes were velvety.

"This is my younger son, Lapono."

Razj recalled his offer. How could one go so far and offer his son as decoy? What made he thought that his life was more precious than his own son's?

_Precious…_ He was once his father's precious. _Look at me now. I am more a street urchin than royalty._

What would be like to return to his former station, he wondered. The thought of his died brother crossed his mind. He ran his fingers to find the golden ring – the serpents of Solidor.

_Solitude, it must be._

The door clunked. Nico was home. Razj quickly hid the ring under his shirt.

"Welcome back, Nico," he said collectedly after finishing the furtive behavior.

"Ta-ta-ta, look what I brought home," Nico chirped like a singing bird. His face was red with happiness.

Razj took Nico's lithographic box with care and opened it. "Klara's signature mousse. O soft, my love is come to me."

"Aw, pray tease me not."

"Why? Who could resist such a man especially when he's with a sweet treat? Even it means to turn away from his duty."

"Nay, everything's completed. Only wait to the big day when the curtain is drawn," said Nico. His arms were thrown around as he was leading an imaginary orchestra. "How about your boy? Have you invited him?" He sat down opposite Razj.

"Yes, I have. How could I forget him?"

"O, show me him when he comes."

"Definitely I will," he replied with a smirk and spooned the pure white mousse. It melted on his tongue sweetly as expected.


	13. I-12 The Emperor

**12\. THE EMPEROR**

It was the night. Larsa showed up before their meeting time and waited for Penelo. His clothes were somewhat hornier with frills and lace. He wore a coat of weird smell. It was not sweetly choking like Tomaj's, just a faint scent. Yet it held a suffocating quality that Vaan could not explain.

"Sorry for keeping you wait," said Penelo as she walked of her room. She dressed in a soft pink skirt exactly like what she wore in her date with Vaan, but he did not have the mind to look it carefully back then. It was a knee-length skirt with a red tail lined with tassels and feathers. A lacy veil draped around her shoulder.

"Oh," she gasped at Larsa, not expecting he would dress so elaborately. A pleasant blend of Galbana lilies and a woody scent redolent of the spring morning was floating around him. "What a lovely scent!"

"You like it? It was my friend's idea."

Larsa extended his hand which Penelo grabbed. Then she warped her arm around his. "You assure of it?" he asked in low voice.

"Let's go," replied Penelo and dragged Larsa forwards. They left.

"So the rumor's true?" asked Kytes after they had long gone.

"What rumor?" Vaan winced.

"Don't play dumb!" joined Filo, and they both said at the same time: "We're asking about what Tomaj said."

"He said Larsa took a fancy of Penelo," explained Kytes. He covered his mouth when he realized he had just called him Larsa. Fortunately, Migelo was upstairs and probably unable to hear.

"Well, why don't you go and ask him," Vaan avoided and he, too, left before Kytes or Filo could said more words.

"He's stalking them," whispered Filo.

"So it's true?" Kytes looked at Filo and she looked back. They both nodded.

* * *

The theater was crowded in the night. It was the time they performed a classic dance "Dance in the Mist". They followed the red carpets and warms to enter the world of a cold and damp darkness beneath the theater of friendship.

Surrounding walls were covered with sooty black fabrics driving all focus into the well-lit stage. Chairs and stools scattered on the floor to found a temporary auditorium. Their seats were near the middle of the second row. Penelo was nervous whirling around while Larsa was reclining on a velvety armchair and gazing silently at the giant painting of a tortoise in middle of the golden curtain.

"So here's your rendezvous," said Basch leaning forwards from the stool behind them.

Basch had heard from the Master of the Robes that his Lord was having difficulties on deciding what he should dress. He must be nervous to be on his first date, to put in his words. But it was hard to believe that he saw him with Penelo while investigating some anti-Archadian proponents hiding beneath the theater.

There would be more surprise if they noticed Vaan at the rear next to the aisle. Vaan had a loose grasp of the plot. Larsa dressed up to go watch a satire play of the Empire. This would not end well.

The clock chimed the time of 'Emperor of Tortoise'. After the orchestra played the opening track, the taleteller cracked the curtain and the play began.

" In country far under sun glare,  
a kingdom nam'd Ustrix livedst there.  
Rul'd by a queen both fair and bright  
whom God hadst bless'd a magicite  
to put on top of sky-high keep  
gazing upon, and peace shalt sleep "

The curtains were drawn back. Behind it was the complete painting of the stage set. Standing on top was a red symbol of a bird. Each side of the bird had three wings pointing out like a trident head. The queen in her gorgeous gown stepped out and praised the golden magicite for the serene kingdom. Tonight her slender bare shoulder was wrapped with a wig in color of ash blonde decorated with a simple floral hair clip.

The play went on like the rehearsal; only rounded up with complete music, costume and background which created the perfect atmosphere. Now he had seen why they said that Nico was one of the best playwrights and directors in the era.

Here came Razj, and Vaan thought that he jumped a bit out of his seat. The forest was flung aside as softly as clouds to reveal the sun. He, who was bedizened with glisters like that of the dawn, smiled at the lady like roses in bloom.

His walk was cut shorter than in the rehearsal, but he wore a more enticing gaze towards the audience or a specific spectator. "For my lady, I swear it just," he said, gazing down with a mocking smile on Larsa who was leaning towards him, almost standing up, "that I speak truth and thou must trust."

He continued the rest talk, slithering around the Queen with his eyes anchored on her, performing the long verse marked as 'Emperor's monologue' in the script. His voice was alluring as the sweet oath of love in exchange of power.

" Before thy eyes the rightful heir  
from Empire of the Tortoise flair

My mind is bound by ruthless law  
mine heart longs to avoid the jaw  
of war that Brother didst prepare  
yet I am now an uncrowned heir "

He lowered his gaze, staring into a far distance, an expression of great remorse. Her hand was caught in his with tenderness. Looking into her eyes, he continued:

" Thus I shalt have to ask a loan  
destroy the old, reclaim my throne;  
if thou makest the real thereof  
I promise thee a lasting love

And with this ring in golden gleams  
May it bring us eternal dreams  
of hand in hand allied kingdoms  
where love forever in blossoms. "

She gave him a nod and the ring did bind to her finger. The scene reminded Vaan of the caricature, of the rumored affair of Ashe and Larsa as well as the subservience of Dalmasca to Archadia. _And for what__?_

"I had hoped you'd say yes. I am glad," he beamed with contentment. Vaan startled. That smile. How familiar. On that bright day, when Larsa suddenly presented before them and sued for a peace agreement, he smiled as jolly as Razj tonight as Ashe half-agreed with his proposal.

The Queen left the stage, still lingering her bright blue gaze on the uncrowned Emperor until her last steps. Only Razj left now. With his back to the audience, he spoke out.

" My words were false as they should be  
What for but precious golden stone  
once I have seized the stone tightly  
I shalt return to my true tone

Thus speaketh mind of cunning king  
and not he halt for his fancy  
not till he hath what heart's seeking;  
is it your wish, Excellency? "

Before finishing the last line, he turned around to look at Larsa again. His costume resembled Larsa in style, as if it was a mirror and one of them was the reflection of the other except for a wide-brimmed black cap. Their eyes met, exchanging a tempest of inaudible words as they were holding each other's gaze. Larsa's lips gradually turned grim, his eyes narrowed into a glare.

"I hope you're not lost for words," added Razj.

Larsa slightly lowered and shook his head. "Is it all you have to say?" he replied at last.

His inviter shrugged and said nothing. Larsa stood up, to Basch he whispered, "I leave the rest for you," and stepped into the side aisle heading for the exit. Penelo did not how she should react. While she was confusing, Basch beckoned her to follow Larsa.

"Have you aught to vindicate on behalf of your beloved Queen?" Razj jumped out of the stage and followed him.

"What...?" he halted, his brows furrowed like deep abyss.

Razj glanced at the girl with Larsa. She was not the Queen. "Oh, busy, aren't you? Playing with another feminine toy."

"You're to return at once," he replied flatly, resuming his walk.

"Well, making a space for your little affair. But you assure? I don't suppose that you have the right."

"I'm afraid that I do. A summon of the Crown is in my possession," he said and kept walking.

"Then I'd like to hear the words from the Crown himself if he may–"

"Therefore, we prepare your accommodation in the Royal Castle," Larsa interjected.

Basch approached Razj and attempted to hold his arm. "My L-"

"How dare you," he glanced at the judge.

This Razj really got something, though Vaan did not like the way he yelled at Basch.

"Very well. Then I'll stay at the same place as you're," he announced suddenly. "We're to be together."

Then he ran to Vaan and grabbed his arm as if he had planned this ahead when he gave Vaan the ticket. Vaan was somewhat carried away so he let Razj lead him and waited to see everything unfold itself.

"Razzia!" Larsa bellowed, yet Razj did not reply him. He lunged towards; Vaan was so sure that he was hitting Razj, but he did not. Larsa snapped his black cap. His hair streamed out like a dark cascade through a broken dam, only that it was short, a very short cascade – barely halting near the mid of his back. Nevertheless, it was a gleaming cascade and Razj appeared very feminine with his hair long.

Razj glared at him before he turned to Vaan again and put his arm around his. "Now, , take me home, will you?" he asked, strolling and neglecting the tempestuous Emperor.

Larsa had to clench his fist to stop it from trembling. His face was black like a raging sky. Basch ordered a temporary blockade of the storage and gathered the play crew as well as the audience for interrogation. The throng buzzed at first then it grew into a hubbub. He was massaging his temples, collecting himself, but little could with the din around.

"Silence," he roared. Penelo, standing next to him, felt like she was struck by thunder or even thundara. The crowd was, too, rendered silence by his clamor. Basch quickly shook himself and continued his duty. They had order until a mid-aged man raised his voice and asked for a cause.

"This might be a play without permit, but you could not arrest us for watching it," he declared.

"You'd be right were it a mere unpermitted play," Larsa sighed. "However, should it be treated an anti-Archadian activity, are you aware of your doings?" He pierced the crowd with his sharp glance.

"A suspect suffices to shut the theater temporarily. And should you are to be found guilty, a sentence of high treason is certain. Think of her Majesty, you're soiling the peace of Dalmasca by your unwise presence. Such ignorance," it sounded like what he wanted to tell someone else. "Now let us have your cooperation and resolve this in peace, shall we?"

His words were a sharp sword plunging them back to reality. They realized that they had little choices. In fact, no one could disobey his words. Larsa put everything in his protector's charge and left for a walk. Penelo followed him. She was scared, but it was too solemn inside the theater.

He stomped out of the theater and thumped the first bridge railing that they met. Like it was not enough, he threw away the cap in his hand to the road beneath. When he finally cooled down, he turned around and saw Penelo gazing at him in wide eyes.

"I'm sorry for scaring you," he said softly, leaning his back against the stone railing. "I… have changed."

Larsa was looking away at a far distance and Penelo followed his gaze as if it could lead them back into old days. The far days that would not return. He could not be the same Larsa forever.

* * *

**A Little Note:**

Phew, finally I've completed the first part *sweating*. It took longer than I expected to introduce Razj, or I should say Razzia. Anyway, it was not a bad work at all and I can proudly give myself a pat on my shoulder and have a nice little rest.  
Thank you for reading to here (and the great patience that requires) and see you in next chapter.


	14. II-1 True Color

**PART II – Second Letter of the Past**

_I remembered the day. 7, Pisces, 708. A clear day. Before leaving, he invited me for a walk with him in the cloistered garden. _

"_We experience a long and cold winter this year," he said._

"_Yea," I agreed. There was no rose in bloom, not even a bud. The garden was put on an ash gray veil that I prayed soon be lifted._

"_The treaty set an auspicious start for the new alliance to come. Still a road lies ahead me," he continue. "It might be cold and long as the winter, but as long I have you with me, I knew it'd soon end and spring shall come."_

_Then he stepped closer, and held my hand, "That's if I may have your hand."_

"_Then I have to see," I replied, handed the box of ring to him, "whether it fits or not."_

_And I put my hand on his._

_He told me that he believed in a future where we all live in peace. His eyes gleamed in ciel sky as he related me his plan for the future effusively. I saw that future in his sky. Thus, I chose to put my trust and future in him. All has been… perfect. So perfect that I start to fear what is hiding beneath the flawless façade, and when clock strikes time the monster of verity creeps out of the box, I shall be swallowed by the jaw of guilt and mistrust._

_Third part of the twelfth account in Rareza Memoria_

* * *

**1\. TRUE COLOR**

"I'm home," said Penelo.

She went back in the morning with a fat box of breakfast. It was Larsa's gift to apologize for last night. The house was silent and still; only Migelo's worried face betrayed the presence of an inner storm. He would fall ill any moment if Penelo had not got back.

"I've heard what happened at the theater," said Migelo after assuring himself that she was unharmed. His voice was broken. Penelo felt bad for making him worried.

"Don't worry, Migelo. Everything's fine," she soothed and eased him down a chair. "Now, let's have breakfast. Look what I brought."

"So where's Larsa?" asked Vaan. He expected him to return with Penelo to meet Razj, who was still sleeping in the study.

"He's dealing with the remains of last night play," answered Penelo, unpacking the box. Now she recalled seeing Vaan Beneath the theater last night. What was he doing there?

All the mysterious packets were taken out from the box one by one and put in due order. Soon it was replete with flat breads, Nanna cheeses in strings and balls, pickled onions, pumpkin and star fruit jam, tomato sauce, scrambled eggs, fried fava-balls, fish kebabs, freshly-picked greens, and of course cups of steaming morning tea. Vaan was surprised at how many were stuck into the box. It even came with floral embroidery napkins.

"Good morning," Razj yawned, stepping out if his room. He was still wearing the costume.

Migelo and Kytes looked around with big, wide eyes.

"What's Razj doing here?" asked Kytes while Migelo turned to Penelo gasping like a fish out of water literally.

"As you've known, I'm staying with you for a while (actually Kytes and Migelo did not have a slightest clue). I'm Razj–"

"Stop bandying that name around. It isn't your real name," Vaan cut in. He heard Larsa called him – now he was unsure if he should refer Razj as him or her – something like Razza.

"Well, since I'm not famous as Larsa, yea, my real name is Razzia. You may call me whether you want."

It sounded like a girl name with a male twist zig. Vaan leant forwards to stare at Razzia. Fair skin, red lips, curved lashes, but he could not guess by appearance as Larsa was as much as this.

"Don't be so rude, Vaan," Penelo scowled and pushed him back to his place.

"I'm Penelo. It's a great honor to meet you," Penelo said to Razzia, slightly bowed, "This is Migelo. He's the host. And this is–"

"Hey, I know him! Glad you move to live with us, um, Razzia," Kytes chirped. He felt a bit awkward to look at the little cascade flowing over Razzia's shoulder. He looked lovely even though he was a boy.

They had breakfast together. Migelo did not say a word. He did not agree nor disagree. Penelo had always been thinking that Migelo had taken her and Vaan under his wing but in fact it was her saving his lonely soul. He decided to trust her judgment as he always did. Moreover, the house was Penelo's, or her inheritance to be exact, so he would let anyone to stay as long as Penelo consented.

Penelo was so glad Migelo did not oppose that she almost forgot the theater was working like usual.

"I'll have to go now!"

"You're going for the theater?" asked Razzia.

"Yes."

"I'm too coming. Let us go together."

Penelo scraped her cheek a bit but she nodded, and they both left.

Larsa had not told her much about the new guest except for a sincere pleading for her help to take care of Razzia.

"So, Penelo-san, you're a dancer?" asked Razzia as he stepped into the theater with great comfort and confidence. The theater was very quiet considering what happened last night.

"Yes, I'm working under Miss Asma."

"Oh, I'm Director Assistant in Nico Troupe. It appears that we have to separate from here," he said observing at the fork.

"Um, I… I'll go with you."

"He ordered you to watch over me?"

"He's just worried about you. And I think the crew would not be pleased at your presence."

"You're right," Razzia sighed. Still there was something that needed collecting. "Can I shelter at your practice room for a while?"

"I'll ask Asma-san, but I think it's fine." She once agreed for Larsa to watch their practice after all.

"Razj!"

They heard a voice called and turned to it. It was a blond boy holding a baggage of clothes and foods as if he packed to move. "Nico is flipping the Home to find you!" said Lige

As the old saying: the darkest place is under the candlestick. Nico never expected that Razzia would dare to drag the face to the theater not to mention sitting carefreely, watching Penelo practicing with the clothes changed back to casual style and waiting for Lige to return. He asked the boy to sneak into the troupe and retrieve a messenger bag, which he had prepared in case Nico might ban him from returning his house.

Razzia absently glanced at the bag that Lige handed him. It contained clothes, food and some money as he thought that his friend would need them, not knowing that he had planned before hand. But it was not totally useless; the clothes he was wearing was taken from it. And Lige was pleased with that.

He gave a contented smile as he gave Razzia the messenger. Its dark brown color marked the long life of untreated leather. Inside were just a few books, a purse, his staff and dagger.

"What're you going to do now?" Lige asked sitting down next to him, "you can stay at Nico's no longer, and he's searching for you at the Home."

"Don't worry. I found a place," Razzia replied. His gaze was locking on Penelo dancing.

"So…" he asked after a pause, "you really are Razzia?"

"You heard?" he turned to Lige, noticing his discomfort of mentioning the name 'Razzia'. "My identity troubles you?"

"No, no, of course not. I'm just surprised to know that you and the Emperor are…"

"Your master is well-informed, I see," he nodded slightly. He was gazing at himself the mirror on the opposite wall. It was for dancers to look at themselves while dancing. His hair had grown long, too long perhaps. "Perchance I should cut it," he changed the subject.

"That's a shame," Lige disagreed, "I mean, erm, your hair is beautiful."

"Considering last night, it'll be better if I change my appearance even a little."

"Er, well, how about tying your hair up a bit?" suggested Lige, "you see, I'm having a ribbon here with me by coincidence."

It was less of a ribbon and more of a thick thread with a blue feather stuck on each end. And it was not coincidence; Lige had bought it but did not dare to give him.

"Oh, thank you again, Lige," he received it with a smile and immediately tried it on his hair.

While they were talking, Shaya seized Penelo to a corner to interrogate her about the unexpected admirer. "Hey, is he Razj of Nico's troupe? I heard about the disastrous play last night. Is he really a brother of his Excellency? Tell us, tell us!"

Despite the numerous 'us' she said, the only one who was interested in this was the dancer herself. While Penelo was inventing a clever answer, Shaya quickly proceeded to the next set of questions. "Why don't you say earlier that you know the Emperor? It might save us a lot of difficulties. Now I recalled you took a young man to our practice. Lamont, isn't it? Is he a messenger of his Excellency?"

"Now, Shaya, I..."

"Oh, what is your affair with him? Is he cute? Well, Lamont is very cute already. His master must be charming and gallant, right? Is he romantic?" She asked without cease, even under the tense glare of Shala, the Quanon player and also her boyfriend, when she praised Lamont.

"Well..." Penelo hesitated, hastily glanced at her mentor, who gave her a generous period of deep and stern gazing. "He's just a friend of mine," she admitted honestly.

"Just a friend? Really?" Shaya leant towards, forcing her to move back till she was next to the mirror wall.

"O-of course."

"This should be enough," declared Miss Asma, "no further saying regarding his Excellency the Emperor. Your focus must be on your perform. We continue."

"Why," Shaya wondered in whispers. Miss Asma never minded about her curiosity.

But practice, she said, so practice they did, and when Penelo finally had a break and went to Razzia's side, the page boy was gone. He had returned the Home. And the little cascade was wrapped and tied into a club. Two tails with feather flown down the back to where the little casccade once was. Larsa asked her to take care of Razzia. Well, just a change of hair would not trouble him, would it?

Larsa also said that he would be home for dinner tonight. But when she related it to Razzia, the boy just smiled and said, "I don't believe that he could, or he must have some invisible heads."

With all the stirs that he caused last night plus his doings in Rabanastre and some letters from Archadia (if it were lucky enough to be just some), Larsa must have been buried in papers and reports. Hopefully, if he was doing it effectively, he would be able to appear in tomorrow night.

As Razzia expected, they finished the dinner, still Larsa was nowhere to be found. Penelo was a little disappointed. She cooked the starfruit stew that Larsa loved. Like Larsa, Razzia ate like a cactite. Thus, many were left for tomorrow lunch.

Razzia was about to retire to Larsa's room after dinner if Vaan did not grab his shoulder.

"Hey, so you and Larsa are what?" he asked.

"Don't be so rude, Vaan," Penelo scowled and pushed his hand aside, "she's a girl."

"What?" the room rumbled. All Vaan, Kytes and Filo were staring at Razzia with big, open mouth.

"What's so wrong with a woman in man's dress?" asked Razzia with his, er, her arms crossed, confirming the bomb Penelo had just dropped. "Please listen carefully, as I shall not repeat. If you wish to know anything in regard of our relationship, please ask Larsa," she continued; in her voice was a tinge of annoyance. Then she left.

"Razj is really a girl?" asked Kytes.

"Razj ain't her real name, right?" added Filo. She had met Razj at the Home, and never got well with her.

"Yes, her name is Razzia, and remember, Vaan, Razzia is a girl," replied Penelo, "Larsa-sama told me so."

"Did he tell you who she is?"

"He just said I'd know when I read his letter," said Penelo and she went into kitchen to brew a cup of tea for Razzia. Larsa had given her a brief note on her habit and custom. After dinner, she would have a chrys tea.

Nobody knew for sure who she really was, but it appeared that she was somewhat important.

"Now I recalled that Deik and Lige are also very fussy about Razj," Filo said, and she did not like it at all. But the worst was that Razj dragged many friends of her into class instead of practice to be a sky pirate.

"Do you think Razzia might be a sort of royalty? A relative of Larsa, maybe," said Kytes in excitement.

"Don't reckon he'll be glad to find another Solidor," observed Vaan, "with all the rumors about his lineage."

"Don't mention that rumor again, please, Vaan," scowled Penelo.

"It'll change a lot if it's true," said Vaan, ignoring Penelo.

"So what's the rumor about?" asked Kytes and Filo.

"Well, it's…"

And speak of devil. The door opened, and Larsa stepped into with his protector.

"Sorry, I'm late," he said, "where's Razzia?"

"In your room," replied Penelo, and immediately Larsa rushed to his room.

Vaan peeped into the room, following Kytes, Filo and Penelo despite Basch's protest.

"Oh, welcome back," they heard Razzia's voice, "I thought that you're burying in stacks of papers by now." She was lying on the daybed fiddling with Larsa's book. "You must be tired now. Come here and have a rest," she added turning on one side. The day bed was quite narrow; it was designed for one person only.

"Razzia…" he whispered, half-flush half-irked.

"Why so shy? I'm the only one that you have now, am I not?"

"You don't believe the propaganda?"

"Oh, it's hard to tell."

"We both need time to think," he concluded and left the room with a clear frown.

They all resumed to their previous position before Larsa stepped out. He looked like he could overturn the table, but he took a deep breath and was calm a bit.

"I must apologize for all the trouble that Razzia caused," he said with his gaze downwards.

"No, she didn't cause us any troubles," Penelo flustered.

"Yeah, the only trouble was we don't know who she is," Vaan cut in.

Larsa turned away at his remark. As if to mitigate his master's embarrassment, Basch handed him some papers and said: "The reports, Excellency."

"Thank you, Gabranth."

Then he started to work and work. Vaan did not really get what with all the papers that Larsa read and why some he signed and some he not, but he guessed that was all. They called it a day and went to bed.

"Please take it to his Magister for me," he said and gave Basch a paper. He looked at his protector. Basch was wearing his Judge Magister armor. It must be baking to wear it in Rabanastre. "I'm sorry, Gabranth. It appears that I treat you more like a messenger than a protector."

His brother Vayne, the then emperor, died with honor in the Sky Battle. The onus was on him to take command of the Imperial Fleet. He did and immediately called for a cease-fire. Larsa could stop the war temporarily, but what was to occur once he was back to Archades? Will his words hold true any longer if he failed to ascend the throne? Or worse, his life was taken. That was the circumstance at that moment.

Before coming to the throne, his brother had stripped the Senate of authority and passed death sentence on some of its core members for assassination of the previous Emperor, also their father. But the fall of one was the rise of another. Deciputh, the former Senator and Sectary of Eastern Valendia, had always found the existence of the Senate impeded him. His brother's doings also stirred the hate and fear of House Solidor among the Imperial System. They might kill him before his adherents returned from Amytis.

Unlike his brother, Larsa did not start out as a military commander, but a civil officer. His military supporters in Archades were minimum. With Judge Magister Drace executed, he found his back was uncovered.

Thus, he took the risk and permitted Basch to take Gabranth's identity and position of Judge to be his protector. The move was… unnecessary. Deciputh believed that he can pull Larsa's strings from the Shadows. His coronation was fast and decided. Troubles only arose once his most _'passionate'_ adherent found that his child-emperor was no puppet.

Basch was trapped between the power struggle. He dare not to involve much into the Judge's duty due to high risk of exposure as an impostor. Neither could he return to his former station of a Dalmascan Captain.

"It's my shame I cannot be more helpful," he replied.

"You may leave. I shall talk to Razzia and finish what we came for."

Larsa stood up and stepped into the room again. Against his expectation, she was sleeping like a child. After the trouble that she stirred, he was both pleased and displeased that she could sleep so soundly. He stroked her hair. It had lost its luster after a long straying from home. His look drifted down. She still dressed in male clothes similar to his style._ Razzia would be a fine emperor if she were born a man_; suddenly he recalled his Excellency's word.

_I should be glad that she wasn't._

His hand stroked down to her face. Her skin was soft. He found his fingers lingering around her neck. The little, slender neck that he just wanted to put his hand around it and… _No, no. Everything's in my control_. There was no need of such inappropriate act. She was his only family now, and he did not wish his family any unnecessary hurt.

He left the room, not forgetting to put the blanket on Razzia.


	15. II-2 Doubt

**2\. DOUBT**

The Judge breezed through the hall of Guild of Mages. His shadow quickly flew over the twisted marble floor and turned before a column carved with symbol of water. Numerous symbols, circles and beautiful motifs were carved and painted on walls and columns, but he had no mind to appreciate them now. He was in hurry.

"Judge Gabranth, please have a seat," the mid-aged mage greeted him and pointed at the leather chair opposite to him. "Our investigators managed to recover a part of the damaged documents," he said straight to the point and handed him a detail report.

Basch glanced at the report. "And documents in Draklor?"

"Yes, they both were very similar," he replied; his chin rested on clasped hands. "Worse, they've pushed the experiment beyond."

"Someone in Draklor must have slipped it."

"The research of Nethicite is confidential. None of its knowledge has left the door since I became the head researcher. Unless…" his voice lowered and his gaze darted to the tortoise paperweight on the spacious desk.

"You suspect Doctor Cid's son?"

"I don't believe he did, but the odds are high. We still need more investigation."

He nodded in agreement.

Basch quickly made his way out of the Guild. He needed to give his Emperor the report fast. They would be in a dire situation if this was truly the work of counter-Solidor elements. But why Dalmasca? He recalled the malicious mist spilled from underground and what he heard of Vallen village. That would not happen to Rabanastre. He swore it.

"Why's he here?" Vaan asked with a raising voice.

"Shh," Penelo hushed, "be quiet, Vaan."

Now he looked her with a raising brow. "But he can't…" he said. His finger jerked towards Larsa, who was sitting at the dining table. His head was down and cushioned with his own arms. His eyes closed like he was sleeping.

"He must be tired for working over night," said Penelo worriedly.

"Yeah, just let him be a bit longer," agreed Basch. He came here as soon as possible and found his master had fallen asleep on the table. He looked at his childlike, sleeping face, too young to assume responsibility of an emperor.

"Man, you look more and more like his nanny," observed Vaan.

"The look is misleading. Like what you might hear."

"Mean the rumor of his true father?" Vaan had always been having a great concern on this matter since he heard about it. "How misleading is it?"

"We're being torn by doubt. Your mistrust serves only to further it. That's exactly what our enemy wants."

And Lord Larsa had been troubled by his disbelief.

"So what if he wasn't son of the Emperor? What if he was really Vayne's son?" Vaan almost shouted.

"Whosoever it's, it cannot change his nature. He's still Lord Larsa that we trust."

Vaan looked away. Three years ago, Vaan decided that if Ashe chose not to take revenge, he, too, would do the same. And she did not, as he had hoped. So he finally had his hate for the Empire gone. Until he faced the man – Vayne Solidor – in their last battle, he realized that he loathed him. His stare to his voice, the way he talked to his gesticulation. Every fiber of his being was telling him that he hated the man – the mastermind who single-handedly waged the war, the real murderer of his brother. To think Larsa might be his son…

"Yes, it changes. It changes a lot."

"Your reaction is their expectation," Basch sighed, "we were torn by doubt. There're so many rumors out there."

"Ones about Larsa and Ashe? I heard them."

Some claimed that Larsa was enchanted by the Dalmascan Queen and spared Dalmasca the heel of Empire. The others stated that Ashe fell for the Archadian Emperor and kneeled down before his reign. A few even insisted having witnessed their 'liaison'.

"Like hell I'd believe those trashes," Vaan added.

Basch smiled contentedly at his replied. Vaan was sane enough. "What about you, my lady? What have you to say on this?" he said addressing to Razzia, who was leaning against a wall and listening to their conservation in secrecy.

"It's too hasty to conclude till I see it by my own eyes," she said moving away from the wall towards them.

"So you won't put your trust in him?"

"I…" She glanced at Larsa. "If it was not in him I trusted, I'd never agree to his proposal." Now she was right behind him; Larsa was still slumbering. Her hand absently placed loosely on the knife hung from her waist. It was his gift for her birthday. When she received it, she was surprised to find herself wondering if he ever worried that she might stab him with this very dagger. Perhaps it was in his calculation; such a small knife could hardly kill him.

"Now, have you enough?" she winced, held the feathers of the hair tie to Larsa's nose and brushed it.

"Mm… Razzia," he sat straight with a frown.

"Oh, you woke up," Penelo came out from her room with a blanket.

"I'm sorry. 'Twas very rude of me."

"No, it's me who must apologize. I should have bought a proper bed." Penelo never expected that anyone else but Larsa would rest on the daybed. She spent all their savings; no gil left to chance the bed.

"Please don't. We've bothered you."

Razzia covered her mouth and yawned but made the loudest sound as she could.

"Razzia, that's surprisingly rude," Larsa admonished.

"My lord, you want me to sit here idly listening to your exchange of idle pleasantries?"

"You won't have to if you'd heeded my words." He glanced at her hair. _And what has her hair become?_ He knew this hair style. It was a style for male swordsman if he had long hair. He himself considered let his hair grow and go for the style like his brother once. Now it was a relief that he did not.

"Do carry on then," she trilled, whirled her head and shoved the club to Larsa as if she could read his mind. He grunted.

"Dislike my new hairstyle?" asked Razzia after a while swinging the club at Larsa's face. "Return my hat and I shall restore it to its former state."

"What do we have for breakfast?" he changed the subject.

"Larsa…" now it was her turn to grunt. "Don't tell me… you discarded it! Graceless! That's my belonging."

"I'm sorry. It was inadvertent…"

Penelo recalled that night. 'Gone with the name of jest Sors!" he shouted before throwing the cap away. He must have been furious.

"I want no apology. Find it if you're truly sorry."

"Well, I don't think it fit for you. Nor your dress," Larsa continued. Her clothes irritated him since the first time he saw it. He could settle for male clothes, but why a style similar to his own? She changed the costume, yet the style did not change. "You ought to dress properly."

"Is that your apology? Oh, your Excellency, forgive me if my dresses offend you, but they're all I want and you'll have to have me undressed or naked or locked in a dungeon if you do not wish to see me in them, I'm afraid."

"You might just dress in a gown. I've prepared a dress."

"No."

"And a lady's maid?"

"No."

"A manse in –"

"No."

He had just opened his mouth when Razzia shot a round of "No, no, no, no."

"Then what do you want?" he sighed.

"I…" she sat next to him and stretched herself, "I don't want to have breakfast now," she observed as Penelo was setting the table. "If you want me to talk, at least fetch me a tea. Layla tea with a slice of limoberry. Ladycake is good too, since I haven't seen them for a while. Oh, I passed Desfontaines the other day; their lovely double-decker biscuits would make a perfect addition. And some nice Mal cookies for a Dalmascan morning."

"Penelo-san, did you make sandwiches as my request?" he asked Penelo.

"Yes," she nodded, not quite sure if she should bring them up now.

"Serve them, please," and to Razzia, he continued, "I ordered Desfontaines famous biscuits, they should be arrive soon. Couldn't find Ladycake, thus they're replaced with Checker cake, I hope you don't mind. We had here some Mal and Kimanih. You may have your early elevenses."

Then he stood up and walked into back of the house. He was back right after Penelo just finished setting the table.

"May I have a conversation with you?" Larsa asked, secretly glanced at his room signifying a private talk.

"As long as we start with a cup of tea. Please have a seat," she replied calmly sitting at the dining table.

"Razzia, I think you understand me?"

"Yes, my lord, but I don't think we have anything in conversation that requires privacy or secrecy." She whirled back after a brief pause. "Or you have secrets that you couldn't let anyone know?"

He went inside and came back with a tray of teas and cookies. Carefully put them down the table and fill Razzia's cup with tea and a slice of limoberry as her request. Penelo helped him pour his and the other's – if they would like. He sat down opposite to Razzia.

"I can't believe that I again had the honor of imbibing the Emperor's tea. Such pleasure, your Excellency, could kill me with its sheer bliss."

"Razzia, please stop it."

"Why, m'lord? 'Tis such great an honor," she exclaimed in high voice.

"For 'tis my greater honor to serve our Lady Razzia," he countered, bowing slightly with his right hand on chest.

She shot a glare at Larsa in high dungeon. "Now, let us say enough," he offered a cease-fire, and Razzia agreed.

She sipped the tea. It was soft with a tinge of tang, just like the morning. She did not see Layla tea last time she visited the kitchen and wondered when he fetched it.

"Don't just drink. Tea'll upset your stomach," he said and placed a sandwich down her plate.

"You, too, my lord. You skipped your meal yesterday," commented Basch.

"That's pretty bad, Larsa-sama. You should have more," and Penelo added to his plate another sandwich. She really missed him enjoying her cook.

"Overworking stuns his growth. That's something I always try to remind his Excellency," added Basch, "children should eat, sleep and play." And he gave to Kytes's plate a sandwich, which the boy was happy for the care but not the sandwich itself.

"Hope your work not just revolving reminding Larsa when to sleep, eat and play, Basch," said Vaan and suddenly received a strange look from Razzia. "What's wrong?" he asked.

She shook her head slightly and continued to nibble her sandwich.

"Is it not to your liking?" asked Larsa worriedly.

Razzia did not know how to answer. At least, it was better than the yesterday's dinner. Her saviors came in time and soon the table was set for a morning tea with biscuits and mini-cakes. These little desserts came in a jade-green box with silver lacy borders and a 'Desfontaines' word. Ones had to wait for hours just to get their hand on these elegant boxes.

As usual, Larsa ate at his leisure, and stopped now-and-then to watch others enjoying their meal. Today he spent even more time to watch Razzia eating.

"So what do you want to ask?" Razzia asked after her hunger was duller.

"No, I…" he darted his gaze away, realizing it irritated her, "well, you have something to tell me, do you not?" Razzia asked him to come at Rabanastre to meet her after all.

"I'm not in the mood for them now."

"I can wait. I cleared my schedule for today."

Razzia glanced at him. "You may have a day, but I'm afraid that I do not."

"And your plan?"

She paused. He must have delved into all her doings as well as friends and acquaintances. "That I don't want to say," she whispered.

"Then I shall accompany you."

"I shall be fine by my own."

"'Tis better if I am with you. We're to be together," he repeated her words.

"But not tagging along like… a vulgar."

"Like a vulgar?" he startled.

"C'mon. She's grown up," Vaan joined in, "she could handle it herself. Don't act like Penelo."

"Hey, what do you mean by acting like me?" protested Penelo.

"He means acting like a mother," grinned Kytes.

"Why… I think Larsa-sama's a good big bro," observed Penelo.

"Actually, I am the older one," said Razzia in their surprise and Larsa's irritation, "perchance I ought to care for you more, l-i-t-t-l-e bro " She added and leant forwards to pinch Larsa's cheek. Larsa winced and shook his head.

Larsa resumed to his meal, clamming up with his gaze anchored on Razzia's left hand, while she was chuckling softly.

"You said you're older than Larsa?" asked Vaan, being completely convinced that they're sister and brother.

"Uh-huh," she nodded.

"How are you doing, Vaan?" asked Basch. Vaan was about to ask Razzia's age if he did not cut in.

"Normal, I guess," Vaan replied swiping his nose. He did not want to admit that things were boring.

"You remember the strange mist we found last time? We could need your help."

"Right, you've received the report from his Magister?" joined Larsa.

"Excellency, your day-off."

Larsa turned to gaze Razzia's fingers again, this time with a pinch of resentment.

"Look you enough? Here," Razzia pulled a thin thread of chain under her shirt. She raised the thread where the ring laid up high her head. "The little serpent is safe," she said swinging the ring before putting it back where it was.

"I must go," said Razzia out of blue, avoiding further questions. She almost dropped a spoon when she stood up hastily and left. "Try to follow me not, Tonberry stalker."

"Tonberry stalker," Basch repeated in low voice, trying his best to hold his laugh, which Vaan failed. Penelo, too, was staring at the stalker-emperor.

"Penelo-san, please don't look at me like that…" Larsa's face turned rosy. He looked cute in this expression. "Gabranth, the report. Forget the day-off."

Basch felt no surprise. His lord cleared the day so that he could be with the lady, yet she refused. The reunion did not go smoothly. Larsa read the report in silence. He just decided to leave it to his protector. After finishing the report, he (again) resumed to his meal and finally be able to enjoy it. At least something to lift his and Penelo's moods.

Basch had something in his mind. And he only spoke up to Vaan after Penelo left for the theater and Larsa for a trip to the Home with Kytes as his guide. His plan was simple.

"You think Balthier might know something?" Vaan ventured a guess after hearing the situation. He was glad to hear Basch did not involve the matter as well as Larsa, or he was told so.

"The singularite may not be a work of the Empire, but it's likely to originate from Draklor. Balthier cares so much of what occurred inside the lab. He must know something."

Thus they both agreed to seek the sky pirate for more information, but failed to obtain more cooperation than that from a rogue tomato.

"If this precious knowledge keeps spreading like a burning house, I might end up burning up my life to put an end for it," he complained, flicking imaginary ash off his gold and black vest. "They should have incinerated it before it scalded me."

And he got a point in this.

"Nethicites hold great powers once put in good use. We could utilize them," replied Basch leaning on the wall. They met on his inn room. An old friend gathering, yet Basch was standing on the verge of the room, next to the door, while Balthier sitting on the table and Vaan found himself somewhat between them.

"I hope you're right about that," said Vaan with a tinge of discomfort.

"Sure, a Solidor ever knows the finer points to put something in good use."

A leak of information sounded believable enough to Basch, yet it seemed not so to Balthier. Who held the power of Nephicites held the reins of Ivalice. No man would be reckless with such vast power, especially a wary man as the now-emperor. Basch has been in the shadow of him for three years and knew no more about him than Balthier or Vaan. Balthier did not expect much from him either. Having Basch around like keeping an eye watching over by days and nights.

"Why, Balthier? What makes you doubt his Excellency?"

"I might ask you as well. What makes you trust him?"

"He's our only hope," Basch said after a short pause. His point was feeble.

Balthier turned away. "And I cannot trust the child of that woman. She was the cause of all."

She was second wife of Lord Gramis, the twelfth Imperial Empress, and the femme fatale of Archadia Empire. Vayne and she were engaged before she betrayed him and married his father instead at the last moment.

"That's why they say Larsa is Vayne's son," said Vaan. He listened to the news eagerly. A lot needed to be said about this woman.

"Yes, and they were not the only whom she enchanted," entered a voice from the crack of the door. A young man with a pony tail stepped into the room.

"Ah, enter a prodigal son."

"Sorry for overhearing," said the man after shooting Basch a secret glance. "Bring you the little master of keys." He put a wooden box on the table. "What do you have with the late Empress?"

"We want to hear all we could about her," said Vaan.

"She was a luminary of Ferrinas, a noble House in Archadia famous for their magickal endeavors," Basch said all he knew.

"Ah, famous magickal endeavors that no one practices except them," the man commented and sat down the seat opposite to Vaan's. He slowly reclined on the back of the chair with his hands put on pockets of his sleeveless leather coat. "The Ferrinas also possess an inordinate interest in Magicites. A researcher she was."

"And guess what? Doctor Cid sought Jagd Difohr in heed of her counsel. That was the beginning of his madness for Nethicites," added Balthier.

Balthier cracked the box and peeped inside then he turned to the pony-haired man. "Say, this little mastery unlocking device–"

"Took from Maklor while I was at it. Unsure it'll work, worth trying though," he hastily replied. After a glimpse of Balthier's queer look, he added: "Look at me like that not. I'm no filial son. I don't care what befell the old man."

"Got you," chuckled Balthier.

"I'm off," he announced and left as sudden as he came. "Oh, a word for your Honor, don't trust the Magister. He's a hound of that kid," he said to Basch before completely being gone.

"Who's that?" asked Vaan after the door closed.

"Mer, the magick hunter," answered Balthier.

"He's more like Mernard, son of the Magister," observed Basch, "he made quite a clamor for putting the late Empress's pendant on auction."

"You don't say the 3-million lot?" asked Vaan and a nod was his reply.

"You've got what you want. I have much on my hands today."

"Understood," nodded Basch, "I must go now."

With that he left. Vaan was not sure how to react. He wanted to call Basch back but felt awkward. There was a rift among them, subtle but did exist. "Hey, Balthier, why–"

"He's eyes of the Empire now if you haven't noticed."

"Maybe we can trust Larsa. He's different from other Solidors."

"It's hard to know. Upon which ground are you standing, Vaan? Trust him, or not, you have to decide for yourself," he turned his back to Vaan, and walked towards the room inside. "Come, Fran," he shouted.

Then to Vaan, he added, "we're flying. I don't reckon you need a lift."

"I told ya, I got myself a new airship," Vaan answered with his hands behind his neck, "maybe we could have a race. But that's another day, I have works. See ya."

He took off as quickly as Strahl with her engine ready, even before Fran could make her appearance. She walked leisurely out of the communicating room. With a quick glance at the opened box, she commented, "a fresh-forged key. It must have cost your purse favoredly."

Balthier raised his brows at the tiny key. "Just get to work."

_I have works._ He said that. Still Vaan found himself wandering aimlessly in the busy streets of Rabanastre.

_Upon which ground are you standing?_

He travelled across Ivalice, yet unable to find his ground. _This is Rabanastre. This is my hometown._ Still he felt like he did not belong here. It was not like it was before the war. What missing? He wondered.

"Mr. Vaan?"

Someone was calling out for him. Vaan turned to the caller and found Razzia leisurely having her afternoon tea on outdoor seating of a café. And she said she was very busy.

"What a coincidence," she greeted as Vaan was approaching, "what business to attend here?"

"And you?" he replied with his arms around the back of his neck.

She whirled her head around then rested her chin on the palm. "Why don't you have a seat first?"

"Now I recall that I owe you a meal," she continued signifying the waitress for a cup.

"That I don't wanna mention," he said and sat down. The waitress put gold-edging cup and saucer and a silver spoon in front of him with alacrity.

Their table was surrounded by sweet scent of Galbana lilies. In middle of it was a porcelain three-tier cake stand replete with finger food from savory to sweet. He stared at the sandwiches on the bottom plate of the stand.

"Ain't you tired of sandwiches?"

"They're completely dissimilar from your beloved Penelo's."

The egg sandwich almost fell out of his mouth when he heard her reply. "What do you mean by _your beloved_?"

"You know what I mean," she chuckled.

"Well, but Larsa loves her cook pretty much," he changed the subject.

"Oh, Larsa. Everything is the same to him," she grumbled, "even if she feeds him Malboro liquid, he'll still smile and say it was excellent."

"Get him well, huh? By the way, how old… is your relationship with Larsa?" he asked, almost forgot that women did not respond well with question regarding their age. Then his insensitive wit reminded him that they might be sister and brother and the question was meaningless.

Razzia did not reply. She looked into a cactus flower lost among lilies. Desert bloom they were called. A soft pink resembled roses in the garden surrounding her isolated tower of which she would sit by the window longing for his rare visit.

What was her to him? Even if Vaan did not ask, she would like to hear it from Larsa. He felt ashamed to declare their bond. They did not accept her and neither did he.

"Lasting and fleeting," she said after a long pause, "you and Penelo?"

"She's like my family."

_Family._ What an ironic word. One might find an unrelated his family while another denied their own blood.

"Just family?" she smirked.

"What're you talking about?" he looked away.

"Why feel you ashamed to admit you love her?"

Vaan almost spilled what he ate on the pure white tablecloth. "What the heck are you saying?"

"You assure?" she tilted her head. With the index finger stroking along her cheek, she added, "I think Larsa's very fond of her."

_Gush!_ Now he spilled it. Razzia offered him a napkin which he snapped and wiped his mouth with it. "Nonsense," he spitted, "How could he go for Penelo? You think who's Larsa?"

"Whom are you asking about? Larsa the man, Larsa the Emperor or… Larsa the son?"

"So you know."

"Why expect me to know something that even Larsa himself don't?"

Were she his elder sister, she might have learnt something. Since all other members – his parents and brothers – had died, she was the only vital clue to the truth. And Vaan felt obligated to get to the bottom of this.

"You may venture a guess."

"It doesn't matter. Nevertheless, he is Larsa Solidor," she answered, calmly took a sip of tea.

"No way. Vayne Solidor is…"

"So you, too, loathe him," she interjected, "many a noble fears and despises him for his ability and ambition and afraid that Larsa is the same."

"I'd call what he did bloodlust and ruthless."

"All he did, he did for Archadia. And in my dictionary, ruthlessness means much more than wars he waged."

She thought of what befell her mother and brother and how all ended in hellfire of war. All was for his ego, hiding beneath the masquerade of a devoted monarch. But he was more of a blackguard than a blackheart, one at the end of his ropes than a calculating, ruthless monarch.

"Have you an airship?" Razzia asked suddenly.

"Of course, I'm a sky pirate!" he answered out loud.

She bit the lower lip, then in an urgent voice, pled. "Pray take me away!"


	16. II-3 Princess

**3\. PRINCESS**

"Funny. Didn't think to see you here," smirked Balthier.

Even Vaan did not believe it himself, but here they were, Westersand bordering upper Urutan-Yensa. She asked him to take her away, and here was her 'away'.

"Well," he darted his gaze around the vast sea of sands, then stopped at Razzia. He was excited to hear that she knew something about the mist stuffs in Westersand.

"Your new partner?" Balthier asked staring curiously at Razzia.

"She's Razzia," Vaan relied cursorily.

Balthier nodded lightly with his brows raised. "Not bad, Vaan. Accompany the Lady of tall tower."

"What lady?" Vaan's wide-eyed look shifted from Balthier to Razzia and back.

"You know naught?"

"Aren't you coming here to delve into the matter of ferocious mist?" Razzia snapped, "if thus, pray be quick."

It was even harder to believe that Razzia moved through the barren land and detected an entrance of an underground cave. Down there they walked past a passage like what he found in his reunion with the sky pirates and the Queen until they had to halt before a sealed door.

"Quite a performance, Princess. It took us a week to find the door to heaven," observed Balthier.

"I am no princess," Razzia barked, glancing at his twisted earrings.

"Oh, but the Real Princess."

Razzia replied his remark with a frown.

The sky pirate took her glare with amuse. "Prettiest roses grow pointiest thorns. Yet it wouldn't stop man from smelling them. Even if he had to climb up a tower and go down from his high palace."

She paid attention to his remark no more and approached the door. It was sealed by a strong magick. The key Mer gave them was for this very door. Fran worked it into the lock. After a few fiddling, she said: "The seal is foreign to me. This won't be quick."

What Mer gave them was a sort if master of magickal key. It would take the shape of whatever the lock it was put into. Fran hoped to accelerate by working it with her magickal power if she could know which branch or type of magick used to lock the door. As a Viera, she was adept at Viera magick as well as black and white magick and every magick which was popular among humes.

"Allow me?" Razzia suggested, growing quite impatient. She grasped the key head immediately the moment Fran nodded and let go of it. Her ring finger gleamed with thin band of golden light and threads of lights flowed through it to the key hole. The lock sprang open; they were free to go through.

_Princess…_ Vaan thought and recalled how the Goddess Magicite, his prize for infiltrating the Royal Treasure of Dalmasca, shining when it came near Ashe. He gazed at Razzia in awe.

She shied away, proceeding onwards. The tunnel wound along the border of Urutan-Yensa and Dalmasca. They met a spacious hall and stop briefly to search for clues but fruitless. From the eight-pointed star carvings adorning some of the walls, the complex might be built during the Galtean Alliance. Someone merely reused it for researches and experiments of magicites.

"The question's who 'someone' was," Balthier said in a knew-it-all tone.

"Think who?" asked Vaan.

He pointed his chin at Razzia, and she grunted, "why don't you proceed and see it for yourselves?"

"Our little field trip has to stop here," he remarked at a group of Imperial Soldiers emerging from an undiscovered alley. Captain of the troop undoubtedly was Basch, or Judge Gabranth to be precise. There was another familiar face. A flower grew among swords. Stood out with her slender frame the Queen Ashe of Dalmasca.

Ashe glanced curiously at the sky pirates, mostly at the small figure that she had seen for the first time. They called her 'the Real Princess', yet she appeared less of a royalty than ever, even less than Ashe when she was a member of the Resistance, fighting to reclaim her lost throne.

The Princess dressed in male clothes – a murky tunic over a linen shirt with tan cuffs and collar and breeches. Her face was pale and stained with mark of dirt like any street urchin. Her hair was tied in a club, again, a male style. A few dark threads strayed from her tie. Ashe heard that she had a lustrous cascade of bistre hair; it appeared just a rumor. Basch was sent to bring Razzia back, but she had been here out of curiosity. She longed to see the Princess by her own eyes, but well… she could not deny it was a disappointment.

Her target crossed her arms. She was pricked by Ashe's prying eyes, then forced to return the city. Razzia secretly glanced forwards. She was walking right behind the Queen. Her pink skirt was so short that a small curve denoted her buttocks could be seen as her legs swung. She was callipygian, still… Razzia recalled her half-exposed breast. Dalmascans was said to be open in the way of dress. They were not afraid to expose their body as long as it was considered to be attractive – the bare midriff and torso were the exemplification of their open-minds. Yet she never thought that the Queen would dress so revealingly.

Once back to the Royal City, they were swept into a private manse with red banners of Archadia. Razzia walked closely to Vaan all the way back and refused to be taken into a different room.

"Emerge if he wishes to speak to me," she declared.

"Lady Razzia, pray make this become harder not," Basch pled. "His Excellency will have an intimate conversation with you."

In the end, she accepted her powerlessness, reluctantly yielded, and followed him upstairs. Vaan remained in the grand foyer with the others, but hardly sat still. He roamed back and forth along the chain of windows facing the green garden. Last lights painted a blush tint on the soft cactuar bloom in the world outside.

"Why imprison us here?" he asked at the end of his patience.

"Here's not a bad dungeon. At least, they had some manners here," observed Balthier imbibing a sip of wine.

"Can't you just have a seat and think of this like a friendly gathering?" added Ashe.

He threw himself down the couch, and with tinge of anger in his voice asked, "then how long are you gonna keep us here?"

"You're not permitted to investigate the matter in Westersand. You know that, don't you?" said Ashe, but Vaan looked away in disdain. She, in fact no one, never got any positive result when he acted like this. "Larsa needs talk to her. Once it's done, you're free to go. Pray that she's cooperating."

His eyes tracked the course that Razzia had gone, and in a window gazing down the foyer, he found her seeming to quarrel with Larsa. He jumped up and sprinted towards the stairs.

"Where're you going?" Ashe asked, standing up.

"Find a way out," he shouted dashing to where Razzia was. From experience of many infiltrations into rich manses, Vaan easily got the location of the room. Basch was guarding in front of the room, but he stormed in before his old friend could ask a thing.

"Oh, I've known more than you want me to," he heard Razzia reply with confidence and a bit of mocking.

He came in right middle of their conversation. Larsa glared at his presence. "This ought to end here. Return to Sangrada Luz, Razzia. I shall confer with you on the matter once we're there."

"And this is how you protect me?" she countered, not even minding Vaan in the room, "I wish to not be cocooned in the tall tower."

"'Tis for your safety."

"'Tis not protection. You just deprive me of verity so that I'd act in your favor."

"What?" he stunned for a moment. "Let us set forth first…" he continued, grabbing her hand, but shunned away and hid behind Vaan.

"Well, shouldn't force her, y'know," said Vaan. He is no good a mediator. _What would Penelo say?_ He wondered.

"I'm no tool. I heed no one's words," she hissed and made her way to the entrance. Outside two guards were waiting for her with two spears crossed before her. Larsa gestured them to let her go. Vaan took it as a chance to leave the place and follow Razzia.

"Care her greatly, doesn't he?" observed Balthier as he perceived Razzia and Vaan leave the manse.

"Too greatly," said Ashe.

A gust slammed on his face right after Vaan stepped past the manse's gate. Razzia halted and whirled back at him shrinking in the sudden wind. A soft breeze played along with a stray of her hair and she was just three strodes ahead of him, chuckling quietly.

They walked together silently. To where, Vaan did not really know. Home, maybe. She was hugging a thick tome. Red gleam of sunset reflected from the golden inlaid serpent shot into his electric-blue eyes.

"Hey, that book's Larsa's, isn't it?" He asked. Larsa had always been holding it since he arrived.

"It's mine," she said, clinging on to it closely to her chest, locking her gaze at a mossy pillar piercing the sky in distance.

"Say, were you with him in the Bahamut?" Razzia asked out of blue.

"Yeah," he nodded, did not think that they would pass the Cathedral.

She walked towards the weird pile of massive gears and rings. In a soft voice, she added, "did he kill his brother?"

"Nope. Larsa was out when the battle got intense," he replied. But on a second thought, Larsa's presence and doings distracted his brother greatly and exposed him to a lethal strike.

"Do you think we can climb onto the tower thither?"

Her reason was to observe the airship corpse more closely, and Vaan just did it for the sake of it. They were sitting on the gray stone defensive barrier of Rabanastre, gazing at the old War relic.

"Well, 'tis not so high once you're here," she commented, "not as high as the Ivory tower."

"So that's where you came from?" asked Vaan curiously. Her story of being a migrant of the unfortunate village was, as he expected, a lie. Ivory Tower, he never heard of it. It was not in Ordalia, he guessed. But she did have a slight Rozzarian accent.

"I lived there for a long while. No, I locked myself there for a long while. So far from the ground that I was not cognizant of what's beneath."

She closed her eyes. "Don't you fear?"

"Fear what?" he replied, looking around, "the height?"

"I say Larsa." Anticipating Vaan's confusion, she explained, "he might kill you whenever he pleases. The Westersand mist is confidential. You've pushed your snout too deeply into the trough of troubles."

"What about you?" he replied loudly, uncomfortable at the simile of the snout and trough.

"He can't. He needs me alive."

"Well, I never thought Larsa'd kill me," he said, scraping the back of his head.

"Ignorance is bliss, I see."

"Hey, whatddaya mean?"

"I believe 'tis a blessing. I pray you remain thus."

"Are you cursing me to be forever a fool?"

"Well," she hesitated, stepping away from him, "that's another way to put it." Then she rushed to climb down from the wall before Vaan could make a rebuke or get his hands on her.

"Stop there, you imp!" he shouted and chased after her. They raced their way home.

* * *

The moon was high in middle of the black sky. Lukio, the Magister, rushed back Milieu Manse after a late-working day. Actually, this was an early leave as he had been working overnight in Guild of Mages since he arrived Rabanastre. He met a patrol; it was the second he met since he was back, if not mention the generous group of guards at the main gate. A threatening letter was sent to the manse, but he did not expect to see so many patrols.

The Magister noticed a familiar figure next to the pond. Now he understood why there were numerous guards. "Have you not departed, my lord?" he asked, bowing at the Emperor.

Larsa was gazing at the stars and moon reflection on the calm water and startled by the call. He returned him with a shallow bow and sighed, "she refused to leave."

He had been putting many thoughts on her. _And affections also,_ thought the Magister. Although their relation required no love; his care for her was genuine.

"Appear that you found the woman. Only a willful Princess she is, just like you," he said.

Larsa winced at his remark. "Am… I willful?" he asked. Razzia was a headstrong for sure.

"Yes, you are," he chuckled, "recall when you suddenly pronounced that you'd stay Archades and fulfill the role of the Emperor's son."

"Thorough contemplation I had before taking the decision."

"I know. Give yourself a rest, however, or it'll stun your growth," he laughed and patted on his head. Larsa shunned away from his stroke and winced.

"Oh, right," Larsa cried, "I heard Mernard was staying for a while. How're you and he?"

"Not much improve. He still hates me."

"Perchance I can–"

"Be troubled not. He needs time to accept the loss of his mother," he said, tucking away the fact that it might be also for the loss of his brother, in which Larsa involved. "Lady Razzia should be your priority. You must assure the Lady returns safely."

"Um," he nodded, gazing up the purple sky. She did not hold many stars as her kin in Jahara.

He looked at Larsa tenderly. He had grown into a fine man. Myrila must have been glad to see him now, but displeased to know that he was the Emperor. She never wished her child to be involved in politics.

_Myrila would be angry at me for unable to protect him._

He sighed in his mind.


	17. II-4 Colon

**4\. COLON**

"Mother, would it be better if I were a man?" asked a little girl as they walked through a stone way. The man-made waterfall tinkling made a perfect symphony with her chirping voice.

Her mother caressed her bistre, long hair. "Why, Tesoro? What made you ask such a thing?"

"I overheard Zangan talking to Father about the heir," she replied, casting her big, round eyes into her mother's.

She kneeled down before her daughter. "O Tesoro," she chuckled. "Listen to me. We're blessed to have you with us. You're the gift of Her Sanctity Sangrada. I love you for what you're, and I know Father also. We'll never exchange you for anything else."

"Father truly does?"

"Of course he does," she stood up, resumed walking her child hand in hand.

"I'll be glad to be with him in the field," her child continued chirping.

"O Tesoro, you're again." Her soft sigh blended into the beats of water drumming on lily pads; and their soft steps were thrown up a bright sky in distant past.

It was a sleepless night. The daybed was soft and silky (well, its cover was made of silk after all) but could only soothe Razzia into a short sleep. She turned over. Whenever she pressed against the bed, it released a green smell with a tinge of tanginess like a summer garden in morning. But she paid it no attention; Razzia's mind was flooded with memories, both sweet and bitter, about Mother, Father and him. She fought her dislike of Penelo's cooking and walked out of the room, just to find that Larsa did not get back last night. Her speech appeared to move him greatly as her expectation, yet she was unhappy with it.

_Pray that he'd soon relinquish his ambition and return everything to what it was._

Kytes was tweeting all the breakfast about giving Larsa a wonderful visit to the Home yesterday until he had works to attend. His master, Deik, said that he had a surprise for Razzia. Therefore, she was asked to be at the Home today, and she agreed as she had nothing to do in particular.

Vaan returned to his works at Migelo's shop, and Penelo the theater. Last night taught him to stay low for a while and let the matter of Westersand settle down before continuing digging deeper into the matter. Lucky that Penelo did not know his secret trip with Razzia, or he would be sitting in her class of sky pirate safety for sure. But something was itchy like sand in shoes. He tried to figure out himself what that was in vain until orange lights reminded him his drudgery at Migelo's had finished. He took a great sigh of relief and went home.

* * *

Orange sky was trying to take hold of the Home from a rare open space utilized to grow some vegetables. Deik hated orange. He moved back, eschewing the pernicious rays. Lige was lying near him, feeling no pain after a few shots of Bonbons.

"De…ik?" Reve approached him with a clear frown.

He believed that Deik (despite his introverted nature) would deal with the boy better than himself. Thus he sent Lige to help Deik. Yet the result, Reve glanced briefly at the half-drank bottle of Bonbons, surpassed his imagination.

"I'm sorry, Reve," he said, eyes lying low, "Lige urged me to…" His black, pointed hat started to crumble under his jiggling fingers.

Deik never learnt how to refuse. Reve acknowledged it to be a fault, but not the only. Children are the future, the old saying. He shot a glare at the future of Dalmasca lying on the floor. Or perchance it was the future of Bhujerba. Whatever it was, there was one thing obvious as hat is to head and shoe is to foot, and it was he was busy with the 'futures'. A month ago, Future no.1 just kicked him out of the Court.

He sat down next to Deik. It had been a month since Reve moved to his place. Deik pondered what happened, but he knew what to ask and what not. He poured Bonbons in a glass for Reve in silence then secretly gave out a sigh. Reve glanced at him as a question and Deik stabbed his hat as an answer.

A broken heart, it said. Frankly, Deik was unsure if he might call it as thus. But it was a convenient answer, and it was right in the sense of melancholy.

From the moment he accidentally discovered that Razj was in fact female, he knew right away that she was special and did not belong here. Still, he enjoyed her very presence and savored their fleeting time together. Grievous that now she had met whom she came here for and it was only matter of time before she left.

"For her Lady Razzia?" Reve asked and took a sip. It smelled warm like a hug, tasted sweet like caramel and lingered bitter like coffee.

Deik jumped up and cover half of his face with the hat. That said yes. Reve had heard her name quite frequently since the New Treaty while Deik had just heard of it this morning, the milk coffee morning with both bitter and sweet moments.

Having heeded his invitation, Razzia came. Deik sat at his personal chess table, waiting since he woke up. He was eager to show her the new chess puzzle, but contrast to him, she received the news with less enthusiasm.

"Was it Larsa?" she asked.

"Yup, Larsa solved it and set a new one," answered Kytes excitingly, though he did not understand much about board game. Both his master and Razzia were avid chess players. Deik even arranged a chess board in front of the Home's gate for passing-by chess enthusiasts. Razzia solved his favorite puzzle when they first met.

"He's always been a better imperator than I, hasn't he?" she said softly.

They sat in silence, gazing the chess board framed with smooth black stone and trying to find the solution. However, shortly Deik realized that Razzia was just staring at ancient letters and symbols craved on the border. She was not in the mood.

"I'm sorry, Deik. I…"

"I made Nico worried. I should visit him," she excused herself and left.

He knew it was Kytes's friend whom she was looking for. He was worthy of a gentleman – polite, charming, and generous. The young man made quite a contribution to his Home. His toes were crawling on the dark wooden floor. The glass was empty on his hand.

Reve's gaze raked back and forth from him to Lige. _Pray that they didn't have the same cause_, he thought. Femme Fatale, they sometimes called her mother. Razzia. She must be the Emperor's reason to stay in Rabanastre. He still found it unbelievable that he let her slip under his nose. But he saw her now and asked Nico to pay attention for him.

* * *

The sentinel had been watching Larsa roving near Penelo's house for a quarter of an hour._ Why_, he wondered, _am I to be fearful?_ He woke all night, reviewed and convinced himself that he did no blameworthy act. Nevertheless, he brought with him a Lady cake as an apology gift. Larsa had a glimpse of his sentinel looking queerly at him. It thrust him inside.

"Oh, welcome home," greeted Penelo, "you're back early today."

"I bought cake," he said slowly while scanning the house. They were having dinner.

"Razzia-sama isn't home yet."

"Don't think she wanna see ya," commented Vaan, quickly surveyed the soldier with Larsa. He was not Basch.

"So she is with –" Larsa asked Kytes.

"She said she's going to Nico's," the boy replied.

Larsa slightly nodded and sat down. He once heard about the Mistress of the troupe from one of the workers. "Nico-san is the playwright and director of the Nico Troupe, isn't she?" he said and stretched out his hand onto which his sentinel placed a document with alacrity. His eyes were glued on the papers. Vaan pondered what he was reading.

"What? That… man…" he mumbled, "I must go."

Hastily he left with no further explanation. Vaan, Penelo and Kytes gazed each other, then the forgotten box of cake.

* * *

Basch strolled casually down the arch steps to the Grand Square where Lord Rasler gave the speech before setting forth for Nalbina Fortress. Whenever he walked past here, it reminded him of his knightly oath to Dalmasca.

His Excellency directed him to stay at the Queen's side for a day, and it was a rough day. The Court was fragmented with different minds, although Lady Ashe managed to somewhat assemble them. He pondered but dare not to overstep his boundary to ask about Lord Chancellor.

The starless sky was sooty, embracing the Castle silver in the moonlight. It was late. He made his way towards Milieu Mansion. His report of the court was for the morrow morning.

Basch met their messenger by chance at the Castle. His reply letter to Penelo arrived this morning. What he wrote was, too, for morrow to disclose, the eventful morrow.


	18. II-5 Razzia

**5\. RAZZIA**

Razzia was slumbering, huddling under the blanket. Just as she did yesterday in front of Nico's door.

Nico could not trust his eyes when he saw her sitting, cuddling her small feet like a lost child. He, obviously, wanted to tan her hide for the running wild out of the script, which he believed ruined his splendid play, but could not at what he witnessed.

"Goodness, why don't you get inside?" he asked.

"Didn't you chance the lock?"

"No, I didn't," he gave a gay laugh, stepped up ahead and opened the door, "come in."

Nico forgave her easily. Soon she crept back into her room, her little corner, and slept soundly in her one-month-dear bed, which now she found less comfortable but more secure than Larsa's. A restless night of deep thoughts drained her energy dry. She fell asleep right the moment she hit the sack.

Her chest heaved with the intake of air. Her face was of an angel_. Even Angels are powerless to save you from the hand of vengeance, Razzia,_ thought Nico. He coiled a thin rope tightly around his palm. Her cascade was smooth. It was beautiful. _What a shame_. He slowly gripped the rope and moved his hands closer to her.

_Ting, ting!_

Rang the doorbell. Someone visited them early in the morning. Nico furtively hid the rope into his coat pocket and rushed to see who it was. From the peep hole, he saw a young, cheerful face with black, flared hair. Quickly the door was wide open, and he greeted his first visitor of the day with a bow.

"Your Excellency!"

Razzia slowly opened her eyes. Light struck her hot through sheer curtains. Nico deliberately arranged her bed next to the window so that she could not oversleep, although it was useless if she worked overnight and slept on desk. Her head was heavy as if someone put a dead weigh on it.

"Nico," she stepped out of her room and whined, "I think I need some…" Her voice plunged into silence at what before her eyes. Larsa was sitting at the table with Nico. He beamed at her. Razzia thought she never had chance to see that smile again after what she said.

"What're you doing here?" she grunted, putting up a stiff demeanor.

"Be discourteous not," Nico scolded gently, "he's my guest."

"Since when?" she asked in a dry voice.

Larsa had pulled out the chair opposite his and gestured for her to sit. Razzia followed awkwardly. A steamy cup of Myndwort tea had been finished pouring right the moment she completely sat down, as if he could read her mind. Larsa secretly glanced at her and smiled as she was taking a sip to comfort her throat and mind.

"You're surprisingly sanguine," she observed, tilting her head. Then she sensed something was wrong. She felt as her head was a ball labyrinth and the silver ball shall roll in the direction which she tilted her head.

_Don't tell me…_

Razzia reached her hand up her head. A mini column pierced skywards on the top of her head; it was sturdy and made of numerous thread-thin fibers.

"Nico!"

"Soft! You reckon I shall let you go unpunished for your devious deeds?"

Razzia gritted her teeth and untied the palm hair, which Nico had made while she was sleeping, with difficulty. He wrapped it thoroughly with thin rope to assure that it stood.

"Allow me?" Larsa leant forwards and helped her.

When the upper half of her hair finally fell down her shoulder, they both also fell into an awkward silence. In the kitchen, Nico was humming his favorite song while making the breakfast. Razzia's mind wandered along lines of the lyrics:

_World that is only for us alone_  
_isn't the fate of your dream, it is__?_

"La~na na na," Nico still hum it when he stepped out with a giant plate of sunny-sided eggs and cheeses. "Ta~ta! Only-us platter!"

"Only-us?" Razzia winced.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," said Nico taking one of two boxes on the table. They were tied with chartreuse, satin ribbon.

"Won't Nico-san have breakfast with us?" asked Larsa.

"I'm good with your lovely gift," he replied, raising the box, "wish not I to be a dumb stone."

And swiftly, he flied off, left them alone with a deadly silence. If silence might kill, Razzia believed there would be at least one corse by now.

"So, what's that?" she pointed at the other box, shedding a track of life into the lounge.

"Oh, 'tis Lady cake," he replied gladly. Last night, Larsa left in great haste only to find Razzia was still in a deep sleep. Thus, he revisited in the morrow. He decided to buy her a new cake as he forgot the cake at Penelo's. It was impolite to visit with empty hand, thus he brought an extra for Nico.

"You said that you wanted it," he said, after a brief paused, continued, "about your words at the manse..."

"Please don't mind it," she said in Larsa's surprise. "Don't you want to know the cause of my invitation? I have something for you," she changed the subject suddenly.

"Here." She took a mauve stone out of her messenger bag and put it onto Larsa's hand. It rounded perfectly his grip, radiating in mystical, craving patterns.

"This is…" Larsa hesitated.

"Nethicite, yes."

* * *

Larsa had not come back since last night. It was fourth day of Razzia's stay, and Vaan still had no slightest clue of who she truly was. He would have been convinced that she was Larsa's sister if the boy was not the only Solidor left. But if Larsa might be Vayne's son, then he might be not a Solidor at all. Things were getting like a tangled jumble. Too wild a guess that it seemed absurd.

Vaan reclined on back of the chair, patting his foot impatiently on the floor to shove the virtual sand out of it. His head would explode if these thoughts continued. He just wanted to fly away for good. He just could not face it.

"Vaan, you're alright?" asked Penelo worriedly.

"No," he grunted. Then he sat straight and looked at her, "hey, you don't feel annoyed with Razzia's identity?"

"No. Why?"

He did not know how to put it.

"Things will be clear when Larsa-sama's letter arrives," she added, "and my bones tell me it's something good."

Right, the letter that came later than its writer, but Vaan agreed that it was a vital clue, though he did not with her bones.

"When will it be then?" he asked, ever restless at what uncertain.

Then they heard a knock on the front door. Penelo rushed to see who it was and was back with a surprise for Vaan. It was Basch. He came for the report.

"Where's his Excellency?" he asked, removing the heavy helmet. The inside face was sweating.

"Hasn't been back yet," replied Vaan tersely.

"I believe he goes to meet a Niko," added Penelo.

Basch held no irritation. The report was not urgent and could wait. "I have something for you two," he said and took out a paper from his pocket.

Penelo and Vaan crammed their gaze onto the sheet. It was a petition, but not the normal kind. There was no petitioner written, only a red stamp of Royal Dalmasca.

"Sight of an unusual beast was detected in Jagd Yensa," explained Basch.

"So you think it has something with the mist stuffs?"

"We'll have to find out ourselves. Her Lady Ashe needs your aid, so does His Excellency."

Vaan was so focused on the petition that he could not take his eyes out of it.

"If you could come," Basch continued.

Need no more words, Vaan quickly agreed. "You bet!"

Penelo scouted his face. His eyes sparkled with sheer joy of a child with his new toy. She could never rest, whenever Vaan get this look in his eyes. It was the sign that trouble was not far off. After many adventures, Penelo got used with this uneasiness, yet she could erase it completely. It just lurked in a deeper corner of her heart.

"Of course," said Penelo. No problem this time. Basch and Ashe were with them. "Did you ask Balthier and Fran also?"

"I'll," replied Basch, "but can't foretell their reply."

"Leave it to me," said Vaan, pounding his chest, "I'll ask 'em for ya."

The Judge agreed. Vaan might do it better than him. "I must leave," continued Basch, "we'll meet in the Aerodome at noon."

"See ya there," said Vaan right away while Penelo had to keep a track of time and location for him.

Basch greeted them and turned to leave. His heavy steps scattered in their small house and gradually diminished.

* * *

"So, you are here to give me the stone?" He asked in soft voice, somewhat thankful and jolly.

_Don't be glad of this, unsubtle creature._ Razzia heard the voice of her mind. She was with Larsa, only-two world in Nico's house. How Nico could leave them in private, she could never understand.

Larsa laid the Nethicite carelessly. "I was worried as you didn't come at our rendezvous."

"I believed that you had flown back to Archadia."

She could not came on time because of some troubles in Nico's troupe, and did not show up at all for fear of being captured by Imperial soldiers that Larsa might leave watching over the tavern. Her belief that he had returned Archadia was unmovable until she saw him touring around the theatre by chance.

He burst into a smile, almost like a soft laughter, at her reply. "No man would let a lady alone to fetch for herself. Now that we reunited," he said nonchalantly, comfortably set the trouble aside and gestured her to start the breakfast.

"Larsa... don't you fear my connection in the matter?" Razzia enquired a while after her first bite. Nico's eggs were delicious, but not enough to ease her anxiety. Larsa answered her with a moon-eyed gaze. His eyes were color of the clearest sky.

"I hold a Nethicite. You should doubt my methods," she explained.

He paused.

"You know it, don't you?" she continued, "that Father—"

"Razzia," he interjected, "a hasty conclusion you jump to."

"Why, Larsa? You're excluding me."

"No," he denied, "this should not be your concern. Be troubled not."

Razzia gazed down the orange lily embroidery on the tablecloth; her forehead rested on the palm. She expected Larsa to let his fury ran wildly.

"Return to Sangrada," he soothed, gradually leant and lifted his hand towards her, "be good. All is well."

His fingers were an inch away from her little cascade. _Knock, knock._ The tapping sounds startled him and he drew his hand closely to his body. Larsa went for the door. It was his protector, Judge Magister Gabranth.

They exchanged a few words at the door, and Razzia was curious what he did not want her to know. She furtively approached and heard their conversation.

"Will Lady Ashe come?"asked Larsa.

"Yes. And Vaan's group also."

"I'll accompany."

"Oh, you don't intend to let me alone to fetch for myself, do you?" Razzia said and joined in despite their trifle discomfort.


	19. II-6 Margrace

**6\. MARGRACE**

"I must say you surprised me by not recognizing her," Balthier mocked him as they were waiting at the Aerodome. The sky pirates easily accepted his invitation to join the hunt.

"Every soul in Orladia hears tales about the Real Princess of Margrace."

Vaan made quite fame in West Orladia, yet heard nothing about her. The only Margrace that he knew was Al-Cid. "So she's an important member?" He asked, changing into a more interesting and less ashamed topic.

"A slow-witted man can tell that," he continued in his usual around-the-bush style. Vaan winced and Balthier smirked in reply then continued in a reasonable tone, "the only daughter of Al-Manzo the Victorious."

"And what sort of leading man not knowing the setting of his world? You aren't asking me who he was, are you?" he blocked before Vaan could make more questions. Still he was staring with round eyes and wide mouth. Balthier shook his head, smiling.

Ashe sighed, having overheard them. She was accompanied by a trusty sentinel and her lady of honor, but they departed for the Castle once she joined Vaan's group.

"Grand Duke of East Orladia and respected War General her father is. Brother to the Emperor of Rozzaria," she explained.

"But I have to admit that I was surprised when you stated their relationship," said Balthier to Ashe. She told him while they were at the Manse.

Right, she was a Margrace and Larsa's..., well, not until this morning that he knew their relationship. His mind roamed back to seem-distant four hours ago, minutes since Basch left after telling them about the hunt.

"C'mon, Vaan," Penelo reprimanded him as she sensed that he was about to run out of the house to tell Balthier and Fran of the hunt, "a good breakfast before anything."

Vaan reluctantly agreed and sat down, but he hardly sat still.

"Don't make that face, unless you wanna Kytes follow us," she said before going inside to wake Kytes up. When she returned with half-awake Kytes, she noticed the black armor slowly walked back.

"Basch-ojisama?" Penelo said with a high voice of surprise.

"I have something else for you," he said to her, searching his other pocket to take out another paper. This time it came in form of an envelope with a blood-red wax seal. "It was lost during transit."

"It's Larsa-sama's letter," Penelo cried at the first sight of his personal seal.

Vaan stood up and rushed to their side, staring at the elegant-bordered cream paper. Inside was the answer for the identity of Razzia.

Penelo thanked the Judge, and he left. "I'll fetch the letter opener," she said and put the letter down on the table.

Vaan grabbed the letter. "No need," he announced, ripped open the envelope and returned it to Penelo before she could make any protest.

She stared pitifully at the torn floral pattern print inside the envelope and slowly pulled the letter out from the opening. The letter gradually unfolded in Vaan's eagerness.

"Read it out," he urged.

"To my dear trusty friend," she started to read.

"Skip that part," Vaan pushed her further, tapping his feet aggressively. Kytes, too, nodded in agreement.

"'Tis a great pleasure for me to receive your affectionate letter," she continued.

"Just sum it up," said Vaan annoyingly.

"Oh," she cried suddenly.

"And?" both Vans and Kytes's were waiting for it.

"His birthday is in the month of Pisces."

Vaan plopped down the nearest chair while Kytes received the information in excitement.

"He said he bought the half of Fil du Destin by chance," she rambled. Fil du Destin, Vaan was unsure what it was. "He seemed eager to announce something," she added.

"Oh, my dear Faram," she cried in high pitch out of blue again. Vaan wondered what it was this time.

"I am engaged," she said almost like a shout.

Vaan stood up, astonished, "what?"

"I mean he said that he was engaged," she dropped the news. Then she started to read out loud a part of the letter. It went:

I, too, by the luck of Sor, came upon Fil du Destin the ring, which fittingly served as my thread of fate, and, oh, you ought to hear it for yourself but 'tis harder than I presumed. I must relate you this as soon as I could. Now I gladly pronounce that I am engaged. My betrothed is a cousin to Al-Cid. Her name is Razzia Margrace. I'd love to depict her wits and grace in my limited words if it does not take too long. Moreover, 'tis best to see her for yourself.

His mind stopped at the words: Razzia Margrace. She was a member of noble House Margrace, rulers of Rozzarian Empire. It took him a long while to translate the word 'betrothed'.

"So she's Larsa's... future-wife?"

* * *

"Anyway, they're great couple, right?" Penelo gushed. Her voice brought him back to the present. The imagination of Larsa's wedding elated her. Who know, she might be dancing on the celebration.

However, Ashe disagreed with her, "I still find the engagement ridiculous." And to think Razzia was loved by the Emperor, she saw no reason.

"Why?" asked Penelo.

"Why?" she repeated, "naught in Razzia fit for an Empress." An image of her ragged clothes and dirty face and unruly hair crossed her mind. Ashe shook her head.

"Then I suppose that you have a happier choice than me," Razzia said out from afar.

She sauntered towards them. By her side was Larsa strangely calm, and closely behind was Basch in his typical mellowness. "Or mayhap you yourself would be the choice," she rebuked; her chest thrown out and her chin pointed at Ashe like a honking Geranos bird. The golden ring, her 'little serpent' involuntarily gleamed as the bride-to-be tucked her stray hair behind her ear. Vaan now got why she wore this suspicious ring.

The queen just turned away in disdain.

"You and Razzia-sama are..." said Penelo, approaching Larsa.

"You should have read my letter," he nodded. "Allow me to introduce to you. My betrothed, Razzia Margrace," he announced officially in Vaan's disbelief and Penelo's cheer.

"I thought you forgot that," she said sarcastically.

"…Why?"

"For a happier choice," she replied and glanced at Ashe.

Razzia still wore the same boy dress like their last meet, and so did Ashe in her battle outfit. All of them were in their casual clothes; nothing fancy about the group. They sallied forth the Aerodrome and had to confer on which airship to take.

The capacity of Vaan's airship. Galbana II, was quite limited. In fact her limit was two humes and a moggle, who is smaller than a child.

Another option was Leviathan II, the Imperial state-of-the-art dreadnought-class airship in command of Judge Gabranth. She and her fleet were built by Archadia (with the money of Dalmasca) as symbol of friendship. But she was too cumbersome.

Thus, despite his discontent, Balthier had to agree to take them on his Strahl. Shortly after the decision was made, the vast sea of sand was outside her window.

"How about this..." Razzia whispered as she looked out the window. She seemed having a friendly chat with Penelo. They got along like a burning house, just as Penelo and Larsa did. Once the Strahl landed on Ogir-Yensa Sandsea, they already walked arm in arm and laughed together like long-standing best friend.

"The mark is seen near Nam-Yensa, the west of here," explained Ashe about their mark, glaring at Razzia who was reading the huntbill, paying her no heed.

"Make it more entertaining," the 'Princess' cut in out of blue, "let us have a speed battle."

"We're not going out for a picnic," the Queen protested.

"Interesting idea. It might speed up the process," observed Balthier and Vaan, too, agreed. "Let's make groups of two. Fran, come with me."

"Then I'm with Penelo," said Vaan.

Penelo scratched her head, giggled awkwardly. "Sorry, Vaan... But I promised to fight with Razzia-sama," she announced, grabbing Razzia's arm.

"So..." Larsa darted his gaze around the four remains ungrouped, "Gabranth shall accompany Ashe-san, which to say I and Vaan-san..."

"My lord," the Judge said, "it's my duty to protect you."

"And Ashe-San also," the young Emperor replied.

The protector approached and said in low voice, "my presence will secure fate with you."

While Larsa still hesitated, he added in whisper: "You don't want to lose to her before all your friends."

The Lord cleared his throat. "Excellent. Gabranth shall accompany me."

That made Ashe and Vaan a group.

"As usual, losers are Tortoise," Razzia declared their rule. "Oh, since I wield no blade," she added and seized Larsa's Joyeuse. "Confiscate. Sheathing a sword and you're to lose."

That was a ridiculous regulation applying to Larsa only. Ashe was convinced that she must have been conspiring to assassinate her betrothed, but Larsa made no clear protest. He just smiled and shook his head slightly. All was settled, and they scattered along four winds.


	20. II-7 Speed Battle

**7\. SPEED BATTLE**

With a smile playing along West Wind, Razzia leant against rusty railings, gazing down her preys – her only joy under arid sky. Her two feather hair tie ends fluttered in wind like two cerulean butterflies among golden sands.

"So, we're just following 'em?" asked Penelo, slowly approaching her.

They were standing on a high platform of an drilling rigs in Yensa Sandsea; one of many constructs built by the Rozzarians to draw oil, abandoned when the era of magicites commenced. Down the sand dunes, Larsa was roaming the desert for their mark, accompanied by his protector Judge Gabranth and some mischievous Alraunes.

"Yes," Razzia nodded, "Holy Wind be in his favor. He shall soon found the mark."

The dancer was curious what her plan was. "Razzia-sama," Penelo hesitated, "will it be alright?"

"You regret it?" she asked, hugging Larsa's Joyeuse as a child hugging her stuffed toy.

Penelo did not reply. She agreed to assist Razzia in her plan to 'overthrow' Larsa despite lack of details of her role. At first, it formed vaguely in her simple mind as a sort of prank (and she would try her best to alleviate its consequence), but after the confiscation of Larsa's blade, she felt a bit uneasy.

"Worried for him?" Razzia continued asking.

"Don't you? If something happens to Larsa-sama..."

"Oh, you fret about his safety even more than I, his betrothed, do."

"I didn't mean..." she explained in agitation.

Razzia just smiled despite the imagined tension. "Be troubled not," she soothed, "I am not to punish you. Larsa and I are as much a Hume as you are."

Penelo gulped. Ironically, she found her ally's anxiety adorable. She experienced the same nervousness as she met her Grandsire for the first time, she believed. "If you're fond of him, don't be afraid to pursue your happiness."

"What? I – no, Razzia-sama, I don't," Penelo blushed, unable to stow her shock away.

"Is that so? What about your sky pirate partner?" Razzia chuckled, her gaze hinting at a couple of blond man and woman resting under a palm tree. Obviously, they were Vaan and Ashe. Penelo was relieved, actually, that Vaan finally showed respect and thoughtful manners for the Queen, while the content of their exchange intrigued Razzia.

If she somehow heard their talk, the content would, in fact, be colorless (at least to Razzia). It revolved only around their mutual love... Dalmasca.

"Why," Ashe disdained to reply. "Why are you questioning about the chancellor?"

_And how did he learn about it? How did Revenas reach out to Vaan? _Her mind was flooded with question.

"Anyway, y'know he didn't plan the assassination," Vaan emphasized his point again. Fidal pleaded with him, and he thought this was right time to ask.

"He might not plan the assassination," murmured the Queen. But he committed another crime. She still remembered it clearly. They were deliberating over Dalmasca-Archadia Border Treaty. She opted for it while the chancellor rejected. _Trust the Emperor,_ she recalled his words as he castigated her as if she was asking for his permission, _when he finally chose another woman over you?_ How dare he hurl such insults at the Queen?

She stared at Vaan as to say 'you knew nothing about the matter'. And though he might not know Reve, he believed Fidal. Moreover, he asked Old Dalan – the wise man of Lowtown – about the former chancellor and the reply was favorable. In fact, Revenas held quite a reputation among Dalmascan patriots.

"He's not the man to trust," Ashe explained as she received Vaan's wince of confusion. The way Revenas treated her as a little girl and acted as he ruled the castle reminded her of Vossler – a former captain and traitor of Dalmasca.

"But Larsa is?" he asked skeptically, "I don't get it, Ashe. How come you trust Archadian and not our kin?"

_Now look at Dalmasca,_ he thought, no different from an Archadian territory. Enactment of Vayne's economic strategy (which he drew up while he was still Lord Consul of Dalmasca) and Treaty after Treaty. All was in heed of Larsa's counsels.

"How come," she repeated bitterly, "which choice do I have? After both of you and Basch left me alone to fetch for myself, he's the only one that I can trust!"

Being a Queen was not facile, and it never will be. Ashe understood it better than anyone the cause of Basch's imitation of his twin brother: it was for her, for Dalmasca and for Ivalice. But Vaan... she was so convinced on the day of return as she took his hand that he would ever stand by her side. Yet he let it go. He let her go cluelessly into the seize of a throng of strangers.

Ashe involuntarily gazed skywards, just to notice the Margrace was looking down from the oil rigs with a mocking smile on her face. She had all of her desires. Ashe married and was to live happily with the man of her love, yet the War robbed her of all – her father, her husband, her country – and she had to fight for her rightful station; while Razzia took it for granted and bestrew the option as she did not want it. Promptly, her aim rampaged down the steel stairs with Penelo following closely. To where, Ashe pondered, but had no mind to find out. Getting out of here was her only thought.

Ashe stood up and walked away in Vaan's dismay. He called her out. On their right, there was clash and crunch of footstep on sand – noise of a fight. One of them must have found the mark. But Ashe did not head to source of the dins, and he should tag along her for her own safety.

"Hey, where're you going?" He shouted after her diminishing figure one last time then turned to look into the thick blanket of sand blown up by a sort of elite mark or he imagined so. One last grunt, and he turned to follow Ashe.

The sand settled down on ground like dregs in bottom of a wine bottle, finally, Balthier was able to see the true form of their mark. It was sprouting from the sea of sand like a giant torch. A flower of red flame whose trailers of lush green spreading from the center like spokes of wheel. Exquisite bloom of desert, he would say if only the presence of her vicious fangs and thorns did not betray her deadliness.

"They fight their battle well," observed Fran at the Judge and his master. Balthier nodded. The boy had honed his fighting skills considerably. Improved stance and precise footwork, he fought like a man now, not the fearful child who trembled as he tipped his sword against his own brother. And to imagine how he would be with a sword in his hand.

"The captain taught him well," he smirked, "we'd better hurry or we might lose, eh?"

Razzia and Penelo already raced there and joined them in the fight. Razzia readied her staff and immediately casted a ray of light once the target was on the range.

"Clear with a holy wind, Dia," she chanted.

The lambert light shot forwards from the tip of her staff and grazed the flowery monster's stem. Basch staggered aside to dodge the spell. It seemed as she tried to hit him more than the mark. Following it was a slash of thorny vines from the monster which he cut off with one of his two blades – Chaos Blade. Basch could defend himself even if Razzia truly intended to attack him.

His only concern was the Lord, who was struggling to fight barehanded. All Larsa could do was casting Protect in assistance of his protector. His water Magic's had not much effect on the aggressive vegetable. Whether Razzia planned this from the beginning, he wondered as the luminous ray past ahead of his protector, missing Basch by inches.

Penelo was so terrified by her action that she hugged Larsa's sword like a dear friend. Lady Razzia handed her the blade and asked her to throw it at Larsa when signified. Now the Lady even moved through chaos to approach the main stem from which the flower grew.

"Razzia," he walked behind, calling her back, but she paid no heed.

He grabbed her forearm and pulled her closer to him. The beast put more pressure on her side, whipped the vines maddeningly. Four of them struck the couple from both sides. A quick whorl back and Protect spell on the right. The magical wall gleamed with blue glow as it deflected the vines attack. Another barely slipped past his shoulder, yet he overlooked it. His mind was occupied by the fragile body cuddling up to him.

There Penelo saw it, in midst of chaotic situations, the sign. Razzia was waving the index finger towards herself behind Larsa's back. As planned (Penelo even thought to do sooner), she shouted at him, "Larsa-sama, catch it!" And passed him the sword. Larsa caught his Joyeuse on the sheath, with precise movements unsheathed it and gave a slash. Once the circumstance was under control, Penelo ran towards them and noticed Razzia smirking while Larsa blinking at his betrothed. But his mind moved past his own violation hastily and turned back to the heat of fight.

Shower of vines kept rushing towards them. The battle would end quicker if their attack could reach it main body - the giant scarlet flower, and it was high on top of a thick stem tower. Basch was gathering power to shoot a special attack when an arrow pierced the sky. It was a perfect hit, right at the bull's eyes of pistil. Without a scream, their mark drooped down under might of the attack.

They all whirled back to see the attacker, the winner, Fran. She secured her victory by another shot in center of the flower. Her long white hair fluttered along soft breeze. In her typical cold manner, the Viera and her partner walked up slowly in triumph.

Only it was a false triumph. Shocked by the damage, the beast was, but not yet defeated. Beneath their feet, bloodlust vines were creeping then suddenly stabbed up for an all-out assault. Thorny whips raided the limited ground where they stood, blowing up a storm of sand. Basch found his way difficultly through dark and dense veil of sands. The sharp vines tried to penetrate his armor in vain.

"Excellency," he cried.

"W-we're unhurt," he coughed. Barrier created by himself and Penelo protected them well, though they could see naught due to the dust. The lone visible one was the red flame, slowly flexing the stem to lift up and shook the arrows off.

It took a long while for the grains to settle down, and the monster's limbs to weary, that Penelo noticed Fran's arm was strangled. Blood dripped from where thorns pierced her soft flesh. Her arrows were useless in close combat; her claws too dull to cut the vines. Balthier burnt the vine off with Fire spell and untangled it. More vines followed the stench of blood and whipped towards them.

However, there was no straight way to get near her. They were surrounded and separated by ravel of green thorns.

"She's... grown?" Larsa observed. It was not imagination. Plethora of vines had grown out of buds scattering along trailers, and there were still many left immature. Enormous mist her development needed, yet no sight of such amount of mist could be detected in Yensa Sands.

"Could it be...?" Larsa murmured and took the new nephmicite, which he brought from Guild of Mages to replace the one they used up last time, out of his pocket, awoke the stone, allowing it to suck mist.

"Underground!?" cried Fran. Being a mist-sensitive Viera, she could hear vibration of mist emitted from the ground, while the others looked around in bewilderment.

"Gabranth, cut the stem off the ground," Larsa expanded her words.

"That sounds like a lot of work," Vaan's voice reached before his appearance, slashing some of vines; Ashe walking behind.

"Vaan!" Penelo cried in delight. She was worried if they were hurt or lost in the vast desert.

With Vaan helped and protected Larsa, Penelo breezed towards Fran. Her toe touched the sand lightly; the dagger swirled in her hands cutting her way through. Her movement was flexible like that of dancing, but stronger and deadlier. Razzia came after. Slow, but finally, they made to her side.

"Fran, are you okay?" asked Penelo.

"Let us staunch bleeding first," suggested Razzia and raveled more vines out.

"They came for blood," commented Balthier. His gun was not so good at banishing the blood-sucking vines. Thus, he made more effort in ending this once for all and leveled his gun at the flower while Penelo was protecting his partner and Razzia stopped the bleeding with White magick.

The beast swung slightly as the bullet hit her face. Her red petals poured down blowzedly. Gazing down at them with her eyeless face, she spitted out acid-green bubbles that burst once touching the barren sand and releasing same-green foul gas.

All sprinted away from where the gas spitted. "Look like we gotta finish with one blow!" shouted Vaan excitedly as he cut off the last vine connecting her with what underground, beside the main stem. Fortune was on their side. Winds swept the poisonous gas away and purified the air. It might not be favorable next time. They had to end it quickly, yet the real competition had just started.

"Come first, serve first," Vaan declared and put the first strike on the gnarled stalk.

"Not so fast, green-horn," Balthier mocked and laying his attack.

"Likewise here," added Basch.

"Unfortunately, we have number advantages," joined Ashe, readied the Hero Blade, her late husband's sword.

The speed battle was on top of its heat; Larsa glanced back Razzia. She was bandaging Fran's wound; Penelo by her side took care of her. His worry dispersed. He should be back to help Gabranth and end the fleeting advantage of Vaan's group. The intent was floating in his mind when the giant vegetable monster gradually stooped down, shredding flame-red dust.

"Oh," Larsa cried in disappointment and wondered who dealt the last blow.

The main stem had yet to be severed, but it seemed not strong enough to hold her in place. The flower lowered further. Her long shadow stretched over the ground. Before her face slammed into grainy ground, the beautiful flower tensed and whirled to the left. Her jaw of vicious fangs jutted out at the land below – where Fran, Penelo and Razzia was.

A direct hit. The sands exploded, and following was a mini sandstorm, covering all in dust. No sight was seen.


	21. II-8 Someone To Love

**8\. SOMEONE TO LOVE**

Castell de Myrtales  
Rosids, the Red City – Andria of East Rozzaria

Two silhouettes glided against soft morning lights, freely and otherworldly like ghosts, through garnestone arcade. One was majestic and relaxed; the other, coltish and edgy, walked closely behind in short steps. The court yard was vacant. Every crimson stone sunk into dead silence, except for their steady footsteps.

"Your Excellency," he hesitated. There were odds of an unwelcome ear. The court meeting had just finished, and the Emperor had made his resolve. Her marriage shall be the watershed in the friendship between two Empires. "The Archadian Emperor is said to stay at Rabanastre for long period." He just wanted to fly there at once and killed the whoreson.

The old General halted to look out the round inner courtyard. No need venture a guess, it had to be for his rareza, his beloved daughter. "Razzia made her move," he said, "he's incapable of escaping the checkmate."

"But, my lord, should anything—"

"Naught, Ariego, naught shall befall my Rareza," he interjected. In the yard, pomegranate flower was in bloom. His wife once told him how much she loved the color of the flowers, the color of blood and fire. He, Al-Manzo the Victorious, swore by her name on that fateful day to protect their only child, and he shall keep it by blood.

* * *

"Penelo!" Shouted Vaan and rushed to her side. She hugged him like a scared child.

At the last moment, Basch managed to hit it with a column of darkness, his special attack, and deflected the fall. The three women, if Fran might be counted as one, have panicked to some extends but unharmed by the hit in general. The mark corpse faded into blue mist. Nothing was left for further investigation.

Now they were resting under shades of palm in a nearby oasis.

"Are you to condone the deterioration of the matter?" Razzia spoke out at last after regaining her voice with a sip of water. "You must realize that you need my power."

Larsa was checking if she was utterly uninjured. He smiled in relief then frowned at her suggestion. "Razzia, that—"

"Let me enter the investigation, I say," she interjected.

He closed his eyes and sighed. "No." His reply was brusque.

"What about for your loss? A simple consent as penalty for violating the rules," she requested emotionally.

"I never agreed on that, and the matter is beyond your concern and jurisdiction," he refused and turned away.

Razzia clutched his cuff. Her eyes leveled down her on feet. Stray locks of her poured over her cheeks.

"Razzia, please do not be..." Larsa whirled back, kneeled down before her, said, trying to solace his betrothed, but it was cut short by an ambush. Razzia readied her brush and stroke the ink-drenched tip on his left cheek. The random black marks bent to the will of its writer. All eyes were on Larsa, squinting to read freshly formed words saying: I'm a tortoise. Larsa grunted, but nothing could be done to oppose. He did lose because of violation.

"So, this is what you meant of 'expose him'?" Penelo asked her in whisper while Vaan could not hold his laughter and Ashe her dismal head shake.

"Yes," Razzia gladly replied, "his true form of a tortoise."

"But we don't have to..." Penelo murmured.

"Have to—" Larsa repeated.

"I'm sorry, Larsa-sama," she said in tiny voices, "Razzia-sama asked me to toss you the sword..."

It was not beyond his deduction. All had the appearance of a conspiracy. Still... he winced. Yet before he could make further disapproval, his 'beloved' betrothed held the brush high and cried out in delight, "once more time."

The emperor quickly caught her wrist. "That's enough."

It did not stop her, however. Razzia pushed it further towards his other cheek while Larsa shoved it away. After a short struggle, the brush slipped and ink splashed vertically along her right cheek. The black mark showed up like that of a scribble tortoise.

"I'm..." he tried to control his chuckling with little success, "sorry... I didn't intend..."

"But gladly, do you?" she growled and began to swing the brush like a sword.

Larsa dodged, but ink splattered on his sleeve. "Be grasping not, Razzia," he smiled. Ashe could not believe how he could be so easy-going and lenient with her. _Can't he see what she's become after years of overindulgence?_

Razzia recharged her brush and swung it again. This time the splash got on tip of Penelo's shoe. "Eh?" the dancer cried in surprise.

Both Larsa and his betrothed dashed for her. "Are you all right?" he asked Penelo and pleased at her nod then to Razzia, "Observe what your recalcitrance brought."

"Oh, 'tis all my fault now. You've done nothing blameworthy," she sneered, tapping on where the ink tortoise on her cheek.

"You did use Penelo-San to trick me into..." he said, oscillating his head like a slithering snake. He would have been warier if it was _Razzia_ who threw Joyeuse at him.

"Right, Penelo-San," Razzia cried, "as my teammate, 'tis fair for you to share my win and woe." After the sudden announcement, she stroked a brush on Penelo's forehead. It showed the line: I'm, too, a tortoise. Then, she handed Penelo the brush, "think of an image of your choice, brush it on Larsa's face, and it shall appear."

Penelo took the brush with both of her hands, hesitated.

"I must apologize for embroiling you into this," Larsa said, lowering his head, stretching his hand to signify her to give him the brush, and Penelo gladly obeyed.

"Are you to say that I am unreasonable?" Razzia retorted.

"Well, Fran-san needs thorough treatment. Shall we head back?" he digressed.

"Can she walk?" he wandered around, asking ludicrous questions.

"Her feet are obviously unharmed, your Blindness," Razzia mocked.

"L-let us proceed," he declared.

Fran regained her strength and mood after resting and watching the youngsters playing around. The way back was smooth with no obstacle, only straight forwards walking to where they landed the Strahl and a quick fly. Penelo, however, started to worry as they were approaching the Aerodome. She scrubbed her forehead more roughly. The ink did not come out or stain on her finger.

"Oh, it will disappear after an hour," Larsa explained.

The Strahl circled above in a perfect round, and smoothly lowered on the landing platforms. Vaan never could perform so smooth a land and watched Balthier in secret awe. The way back took them only half an hour, thus there was one half left, which said Penelo had to wear the 'painting' to attend her practice session at the theatre. She edged down the landing stairs, wondering what Lady Razzia brushed on her face.

"Penelo-San," Larsa called her before they made their appearance to the Aerodome, took off his coat and put over her shoulder. Having been pulled up, the attached head covering hid her forehead. "This should do."

"Such gallant is your manner," commented Razzia at his doings as she hauled her hair from the tie to conceal the tortoise on her right cheek.

"A compensation it is. For what my betrothed has done," he replied.

"Excellent pretext," she countered and walked out of the Aerodome. "I shall be back to the theatre," she said before being asked.

"I'm coming to the Theatre, too," cried Penelo and ran along Razzia.

Larsa felt safe as long Penelo was with her. He, the Queen and Basch were retiring the Castle. They offered some help for Fran, but the sky pirates declined and returned the inn by themselves. That made Vaan the only one left. He would be back to Migelo's shop and his drudgery.

It was no better scenery for Ashe. Once returning the Royal Castle, the Queen was shoved onto her throne with the royal court surrounding her. The mundane meeting commenced and lasted for one or two hours, a break then continued. Today was a little different; however, Larsa was to attend the conference. With ease, she navigated through the quotidian meeting, which she could never get used, under his helm. Every single thing became agreeable as long as he was with her.

"Here you are," said Ashe, slowly approaching him from behind. Larsa welcomed her presence with a smile. They were having a rest before resuming the conference. She found him standing alone on the balcony looking out the city.

"Every man appears to enjoy the view of this balcony," she observed. Rasler, her late husband, too, loved to stand here enjoying the aerial view of Rabanastre. From here, the Cathedral could be seen with the tall Bahamut.

"A real wonder this place is," he replied.

"Where's Basch?" Ashe enquired.

"I ordered him to inform Razzia that I would be back late."

_Razzia, again_. She slightly turned away.

"Be troubled not. She won't stay Rabanastre for long. I've already sent Al-Cid a letter. Her escort will soon be deployed."

Actually, it was not that troubling her. "You're assured about the marriage?" As one who went through a marriage of convenience, despite marrying the man of her love, Ashe knew well that it might be weary sometimes to play the role, especially when your spouse shall be running around like a loose Chocobo as 'Princess' was.

"Everything is as it should be," he replied in soft voice, so soft that it was almost a sigh.

She acknowledged that it was for the peace of Ivalice. The Lady's Father was the respected figure in eyes of Rozzarian most devoted military leaders. With his very daughter's marriage as the symbol of alliance, amity between empires was to be secured. It was a splendid move, yet Ashe never wanted Larsa to go this far.

"Razzia... she have lived her entire life in doubt. Once I convinced her of my resolve. Everything will be good," he continued.

"I pray you're right," she sighed. Ashe glanced at him. He was gazing at the sky like facing the coming night. Softly patting her hand on his, she smiled, "Nevertheless, you know that you have my aid."

He replied again with a smile.

Vaan was surprised to be greeted by Basch walking out of his home as the young sky pirate was back from work at Migelo's shop. That was a good sign; he guessed Larsa must be at home, and Vaan had a lot to ask him about what was running beneath the Westersand.

They had already discovered an underground complex that appeared to be used to conduct researches and experiments. Of what and by whom? Vaan was wondering. And the mark they defeated today. It drew Mist from underground. And how could Mist be present under their feet? There were too many questions that needed answers.

But to his discontent, Basch came to inform them (especially Razzia) that Larsa might not be back tonight so dinner need not wait. Vaan dropped himself on a side chair and sighed.

"Oh, why so blue?" asked Razzia, slipping to the seat opposite his, "pine for Larsa?"

"Is that you, Miss Bride-to-be?" he countered as Filo was looking at her curiously. The girl could not believe what Kytes told her, that Razzia was Larsa's fiancée.

"Well, I do," she said, leaning forwards him. With a penetrating gaze, she added in a sweet whisper, "I do intend to enquire Larsa about the matter in Westersand."

Vaan jumped up straight, gazing Razzia with sparkling eyes. "And?"

"I say don't presume much from Larsa. My involvement in the matter he frowned upon. Let alone yours," she continued in the same absorbing tone, "but..."

"Dinner," Penelo cut in and slammed a bowl of salad between the two. Tonight they had shredded Chocobo rotisserie with flat bread and cactuar flower salad. Vaan was surprised to see that Penelo still had the mood to enjoy red cactuar flower after the hunt.

Penelo just wished that Vaan would stop bandying these things around. They were beyond their ability, beyond their power and not theirs to discuss. They were national secrets.

"But what?" Vaan resumed their conversation while they were cleaning the table after finishing the meal without Penelo's presence.

"Well, you had best to stay within your border," Razzia said to Vaan despite that meant she had to find another man to escort her.

"Hey, you can't just say that and go!" he grunted and grabbed her forearm, trying his best to hold the shout.

Razzia shoved his grip away. "So you're to go despite all?" she asked, slightly signaling a glance at the kitchen.

He scanned around, lightly nodding. It would not be funny to see Migelo and the children bragging around about their top-secret findings. Vaan took her by the wrist and hauled Razzia into the kitchen where Penelo was alone preparing their after-meal tea and dessert.

"Hey, we could have it here," he announced after furtively closing the door.

"Have what?" Penelo was gazing at the unexpected visitors in her realm, the kitchen.

"Razzia knows another way to look into the Mist in Westersand," explained Vaan, "we'd go for it behind the royal back. You too wanna know what's going on inside, right, Penelo?"

Her tied bistre cascade shook as if it was hit by an earthquake. Razzia disbelieved what she had just heard. He asked Penelo to join their infiltration and investigation. She wondered, much wondered, if he realized that it might cost him his own life if he was found loitering around the 'restricted' area where he did not belong.

Penelo agreed reluctantly. Despite her opposition to the plan, it had better if she went along and watched over him. It would be easier that way than trying to persuade Vaan not to do. Still Penelo found herself could not go into sleep. She wrung the dark clothes in her hand. It was soft and light, emitting a green and fresh smell with a floral tinge whenever she scrubbed it. The fragrance gave her quite a solace. When she had such nice fabric was what she was thinking before realizing it was Larsa's coat.

"Oh," she cried and sat up. Having straightened it, Penelo decided that she should hang it somewhere that its owner could see. She cracked the portiere and saw Larsa tiptoeing into his room.

The light of the room was still on despite the dweller was slumbering. He gradually turned down the light until it was dark enough to for her to sleep, but light enough for him to see her face quite clearly. The young emperor kneeled down before the bed. His white glove stood out among her dark hair, caressing along the flow of soft fibers to her cheek, right where the tortoise painting once was. It lit a gentle smile on his face.

Penelo looked inside from the portiere. Larsa did care for the Lady greatly. Yet she was dubious at his feeling towards her. She recalled the afternoon when they were going back the theatre after the hunt. Razzia did not return her station in Nico's Troupe, but invited Penelo to sit in the lounge with her until the ink faded.

"You still think about what I said earlier?" Razzia asked, taking a sip of Amille tea. Penelo had been sitting in the silence for a while.

"Well, I'm just wondering. Are you mad at Larsa-sama?" The dancer said, stirring her cup of same tea nervously. "I mean because he did not declare your relationship," she added as she noticed the Lady was blinking at her.

"Oh, that," she paused and shook her head slightly, "I won't deny that it vexed me. But, no."

Penelo sighed in relief and took her first sip. "You do care for Larsa, don't you?" Razzia enquired and leant forwards, looking at her curiously.

"Eh? I, it's not what you think, my lady," she flushed.

"You know what I'm thinking?" Razzia grinned and looked away then she whirled back and added: "Actually, I'm glad. It'd better that way. Me and Larsa, it's just a marriage of convenience."

And she looked out from the balcony of the theatre. Outside was a wide, blue, and bright sky, where many a opportunity laid undiscovered. There would be one out there...

"Sorry. I didn't intend to wake you up," Larsa apologized. His voice brought her back to the dark present.

Having put the blanket on Razzia, Larsa was leaving the room when he noticed Penelo stood looking inside from his room's portiere. She saw it all and was admiring him with a grin.

"No. I... I just can't sleep," she explained and handed him the coat, "so I think I should give it back."

"Oh, thank you," he said and received it.

"It's me who should thank." Penelo was glancing at Razzia sleeping. "Larsa-sama," she hesitated, fidgeting, "you really don't want Razzia-sama to involve the Mist stuff in Westersand, do you?"

"'Tis too dangerous."

"But if she's willing to do it by any cost..."

He knew Razzia would. "Penelo-san, did you know something?"

Penelo looked down. She knew she could trust him, but Vaan and Razzia adjured her silence, especially to Larsa.

"Well," she paused, "actually..."


	22. II-9 Whereabouts

**9\. WHEREABOUTS**

Larsa dropped by for a period just enough to have breakfast with them. As usual, Kytes was thankful for both his presence and generous platter of cuisine, both savory and sweet, that he brought along. Vaan was only glad that Larsa left without asking him anything; he seemed remain in dark about their plans.

The plan was simple: go to Western Sandsea and investigate it themselves. Razzia knew whereabouts of another entrance, beside the one that she asked Vaan to take her to. There was a problem; however, Larsa always had eyes on her. Surveillance and spying eyes. Thus the first thing was to cut the tail.

"It's hard to be famous. Always have admirers tagging along," observed Bathier, He was sitting on the table while Razzia and Penelo were tending his partner's wound. Vaan was seating on a chair, gazing out the window.

"Why must he spy his fiancée?" Vaan wondered out loud.

"Maybe, he's just worried," said Penelo, taking off the bandage on Fran's arm.

"Feel like I'm doing something bad," Vaan replied, resting his chin on the back of the chair.

"Aren't you?" Balthier smirked, "trying to grow your rank by 'kidnapping' the Princess. I would save my cuffs if I were you."

"Who say anything about kidnapping?"

"So what're you doing? Push your snout into the trough of foul Mist?"

"Don't say you ain't interested," Vaan sat straightly; his eyes gleamed like puppy eyes.

"I should think the Princess is quite uncomfortable with my company," the experienced sky pirate commented at Razzia's hard glare.

"And I should think as a partner you would care for Lady Viera more," she rebuked.

"Oh, I would if it hadn't best to leave if for professional."

"Right, Razzia-sama is really good at this," Penelo praised her mend. "You study White magick?" Penelo had some knowledge of White Magick as well as first aid and usage of herbs. These skills came in handy often, but she had to admire Razzia's adeptness.

"It's not White Magick. Just something similar," said Fran. It was something intriguing her from the first time she met Razzia.

"It's called Nichli, an ancient branch of White Magick. I studied it at Temple of Sangrada Luz."

"Yeah," Balthier nodded, "many a refugee seeks the Temple for sanctuary. From the war caused by your father, perhaps."

Razzia stood up, still her eyes anchored on the bare belly half-concealed under a translucent veils. At their first meet, she did not pay much attention, but the way Lady Viera dressed worried her. How could she go into battle with her soft belly unprotected, Razzia was curious.

Anyway, she finished changing the bandage, and Fran was capable of looking after herself. Her purpose of coming here was to hide from the frying eyes, then perhaps they could leave unnoticed by the back door. It was high time. Razzia walked to the door; Penelo and Vaan soon followed,

"Lady," Balthier said after her, "there's something intriguing me for a while."

"And?"

"You betook yourself up high the Ivory Tower, away from the world's turmoil. You chose your freedom over all. What made you go down?"

She paused, staring at distance a while before replying. "A man," she said, "came to me across the other side of Ivalice. He convinced me that in his capable hand a sword was wielded to further peace and he needed me to be his sword."

"And if he's fooling you?"

"Then I shall see his end myself," she answered, looking straight to his hazel green eyes.

The cynical sky pirate slightly nodded. "You'd need some aid then," he offered, raising his gun on his shoulder.

His partner slowly stood up and slid the old closet to reveal a secret passage. "The back door has little privacy. Let us go for a real disappearance," she said in her typical mysterious manner, caressing the side of the closet. The two had to pay quite an amount for this special service.

Balthier gesticulated for them to follow the Viera. First was Vaan, then Penelo and finally Razzia.

"Thank you, Mr. Balthier," she whispered as she reluctantly walked past him, disappearing into the passage.

Passing way was winding up, down and around. It was black, unlit except for a torch of Fire on Fran's hand, waving ahead like an orange flickering flag. Once or twice, Vaan had to stop for Razzia to catch up. She walked very slow, tripped and missed then and now. Gladly, they were soon out of it and felt the lively sunlight in front of the Aerodome.

Having assured themselves no sight of stalkers was detected, they proceeded inside the Aerodome to where the Strahl was moored. Vaan loved the airship and nagged her owner for one more helm which, of course, was never granted as long as Balthier was here.

"So where're we going?" Vaan asked after getting bored of watching the engine started.

Razzia took a map out of her messenger and opened it up. It was scribbled with marks and lines in pencils. Vaan could easily make out the broken line of two rivers standing between Yensa Sandsea and East Rozzaria. Seemed like she had prepared it for a while.

"Let us proceed to Uelaa river," she said and circled the region on the right of the upper river, where the Tomb of King Raithwall was located, "I believe Larsa haven't expended the investigation this far."

"Impressive, but the area is in Jagd," Balthier said.

"So what?" Vaan cut in while Razzia was looking out the window at the blue gleam of airship's glossier ring, "Strahl is special. She could travel through Jagd."

Balthier turned back to the control panel, nodding gently. "Nice, Vaan," he said cynically, and as usual, Vaan could not quite get it.

They made the shortest course to near the Tomb of King Raithwall. The vast sea of sand was stretched under the cabin's window, bringing back the old excitement that Vaan once had the first time he go into a tomb to find treasures. This time, however, they would not go for the tomb but the proximity.

The Strahl just dropped her anchor, and Vaan was out of his seat, rushing towards the entrance. Penelo looked after him worriedly. They had been on many menacing adventures together, but this put a troubled weight on her. It was because the high odds that they might have to go against Larsa, or the peaceful days in Rabanastre dulled the edge of her risky spirit? Whatever it was, she was frightened.

"Don't worry," Balthier, comforted her anxiety. "The goddess is smiling upon us, as long she's standing on our side," he added, pointing his chin at Razzia.

"Yeah," she nodded, but the scene of prison still lingered on her mind. Even after departing the desert to the underground world, her only thought was maybe the prison looked just black and cold as the place.

It was no different from other tunnels that they discovered. Wide lobbies connected by dark alleys lit by cool white magicite lamps if they were still working. This time they found some charred papers. They were results of experiments. Although, not much was obtained from the destroyed data, it proved that Imperial investigators had yet to reach this area.

"What have gotten into their head?" Balthier murmured as he went through more papers. They stopped briefly in front of a great door. The door was sealed tight with strong magick. Though there was a tunnel, presumably leading to another room, the group decided to halt for Balthier to look further into the reports and Fran the magickal seal.

"You got some clues?" asked Vaan. All he got from the paper was numbers and foreign words. Balthier, on the other hand, seemed to read them.

"I've presumed this," he gave out a vague answer. Vaan was wondering if a sword could help him obtain a real answer from his kind comrade.

"This is not the work of Archadia," he continued. Balthier feared that someone had reactivated the manufacture of Nethicite, the 'great' work of his father, but it was not. Despite not being a researcher himself, the style and manner of his Empire was something the not-so-good citizen could recognize.

"So that means," said Vaan and they both turned to Razzia who was investigating the gate with Fran and Penelo.

"M'lady," called out Balthier and waved a sheet paper with a half-burnt crest, "I think you should used to this symbol."

Lifting her face faintly, Razzia replied in whispers without turning back. "Yes, it's at hand of Catalya Research Center of Rozzaria."

"Let me venture a guess. Under your father's command."

Razzia rose gradually, gazing at the seal in silence. It manifested nothing; nothing but a tall black door with an eight-pointed star craving laid on center of a rose wheel. But if they tried to push through, always a force thrust them back. The seal was an invisible wall. She stood on her toes, trying to touch the bottom of the rose wheel. Hidden under her engagement ring, a gleam burst from her left ring finger in synchronization with the rays of light scattering from where her finger laid.

"I think the seal could be broken if I may have aid," she digressed.

"What're you waiting for?" Vaan urged.

She turned to Vaan, confused at his inordinate passion, "what lie behind this door is unknown even to me," said she, "there might hide more malicious force than you expected."

"So what?"

"And even if you made it out alive, there're odds of being thrown into dungeon," added she, gently shaking her head, a glimpse of Penelo worrisome expression was caught in her eyes, "Would you for anyone reconsider it?"

"Then would you reconsider it for me?" said a voice from her side. Razzia realized right away whose it was.

"Larsa-sama!" Penelo cried at his sight.

They were surrounded by a small group of soldiers and mages leading by his protector. The young Emperor was with the Queen.

"You're not supposed to be here," said Ashe, crossing her arms. Now she was both gleeful and woeful to find the 'Princess' was among them, both pleased and regretted for having insisted Basch and Larsa to let her accompany.

"So you've come," Razzia turned back to look at him with an amusing but somewhat enticing smile.

Larsa replied her with a grim look. They held each other's gaze. "Let us look inside before deciding," he replied out of blue after a long gazing.

His betrothed smirked in triumph, stepping aside, clearing the space for Archadian mages to perform their inspection. Soon a golden chalice was laid out on the intertwined double S symbol drew with chalk.

"Your magister," the mage in royal blue robe bowed and offered Larsa a water amphora. He took it with both hands, gradually kneeled down and poured water into the wide chalice. The mage touched the water; the others circled and stretched their right arms towards him. All was chanting inaudible words.

"What're they doing?" asked Vaan.

"Seeing," replied Balthier, "Archadian hermits, Practitioners of Soridol, discipline of magick shepherded by infamous House Ferrinas."

The water glowed in blue luster, overflowing the brim of chalice; it tracked the chalk mark that emblazoned twin Levithans, deities of Soridol, before moving through space, leaked inside the sealed door and worked their magick of looking inside a closed box.

"They're famous for water magick and prophets," added Razzia, "but rarely seen performing it outside the tall walls of their sanctuary. We should be grateful that Larsa's their High Magister."

"Actually, I inherited the title from my mother," explained Larsa as Penelo and Vaan was gasping at the new details.

"They've been a great aid," Ashe praised. Many seals were unlocked and much of the investigation was conducted by them.

"Too great, I suppose," sneered Balthier.

"What are you implying?"

"I think he say TINSTAAFL," joined Razzia.

"Tistafle...?" Ashe repeated in confusion.

"There is no such thing as a free lunch," explained Vaan. A common expression in Lowtown.

Razzia expressed her trifle surprise by raising her brow. Fran coincidentally crosses her arms. Balthier's smirk followed closely. Larsa stared at his betrothed in deep reflection. Basch slightly shook his head. Penelo whirled around with a worried gaze. Ashe grunted then turned away with a frown. And Vaan walked back and forth, getting bored at the dead silence hung over them.

Fortunately, the azure gleam was out shortly after the remark; the ritual finished in time and saved them out of the endless pit of overthinking.

"What did you see?" asked Vaan impatiently.

"Not much, I'm afraid," the mage stood up, "Mist is so dense. Forgive me, Magister."

"You've done your best, Amont," Larsa said, staring at the door, now shining with golden threads. His index rested on his lips.

"Magister Lukio sees it better than I. It might be best that we wait till his arrival," suggested Amont.

Razzia was standing in front of the door at exactly where her betrothed was looking at. "Well," she smiled, tilting her head, "I'm in your hand now. I shall have to heed your words."

Whenever she looked at him like that, it was both love and hate. He loved her smile, but hated the intent behind it. "As if you'd stop as I told," he replied.

"Then, would you?"

"Very well. Let us tackle this once for all," he said, nodding, "Amont, please open the door."

"M-Magister!"

"We shall proceed inside."

The young mage reluctantly gave in and did as he ordered. They started to gather around the door and chanted. This time was much lengthier. Vaan eased his boredom by listening to Razzia's tune. She was humming an unknown, cheerful melody. Penelo was, too, wiggling along the tune happily; Larsa did not punish them or scold her for being dishonest about the infiltration.

The symbol of Soridol shone one last time, melting the invisible seal under its flickering blue light. And the door was ready to disclose.

"Thank you for the great work," Larsa appreciated, "you may rest. We shall take care of remaining."

"Magister," the mage gasped, "I'll go with you."

Larsa surveyed the mage in blue and slowly gave a nod of approval. "Gabranth, we go," he ordered, then turned to Ashe and the sky pirates, "and?"

"Of course we go," answered Vaan while the queen slightly nodded.

"And don't forget me," Razzia chirped in and walked slowly forwards. Larsa sighed, but it would never end well unless he went along with her for interference only made she went for more perilous approach. He knew it because he would do the very same.

Basch led two trusted Imperial swordsmen moving ahead of them, others were commanded to guard the door. They readied the blades, and carefully cracked the door open. Dim light hesitated to seep into the world of pure blackness. It lingered at the edge of the door as to tell lost wayfarers not to enter. They lit up the hand lamps, defining their will of expedition, but it did little to deny the power of prevailing darkness.

From behind, all Vaan could see were cool-light lamps swinging around like will-o'-the-wisps. The sky pirates were assigned to be at the back, surrounding the core, which included the Queen, the Emperor and his betrothed. Fran, like while they were on the secret passage, casted Fire to shed a little light. Still the place was filled with muddy smoke, so dense that even fire could not penetrate.

"What's this?" Penelo enquired, staring at the Stygian substance warped around her fingers when she stretched her hand out as if to devour her. Her fingers shook it away and came back to her body. Despite lack of information, it made her anxious.

"It's Mist," Fran answered. Her red eyes anchored on the mage who were casting with nephmicite to clear the impure Mist surrounding them.

Once the Mist was diluted, they found themselves on wide halls, marked with lines of stone columns, spearheading straightly into depth of black. The Mist now had umber color with tints of purple and indigo and an illusionistic appearance of vitality with waving dark spots.

"I've never seen such dark Mist," remarked Ashe, having tracked along the wall and entered a spacious room. Her heart beat fast; her breath was hard; and her ear convinced her that there was eerie shriek from afar. Something hard grazed past her ankle. "Eh!" Ashe gasped. Her feet staggered, she was pitching forwards, tumbling down. Luckily, Balthier caught her in time.

"Never learn to watch your step, do you?" he mocked. His arm secured loosely around her slender shoulder. The Queen was awkward to find that she just stumbled upon a rock.

"Eh~ I'm falling too," cried Razzia, pretending to trip. "Why don't you catch me?" she asked Larsa angrily after returning to balance.

"Er... Well," Larsa did not react in time, "acting, weren't you?"

"Poh," she exclaimed.

"Razzia, that's surprisingly rude."

She covered her ears and walked away. "I cannot hear sluggish Tortoise speaking."

"I admit 'twas a moment of distraction, but you cannot..."

Before he could finish the line, a shadow dove down sharply at Razzia. She stepped back to dodge and slipped. "Ew!" she cried. Larsa rushed towards her, but his betrothed was safely caught by his protector.

"See? Slugtoise!" she said after thanking the Judge.

Larsa lost his voice. His cheek glowed with embarrassment. "Slugtoise," she repeated.

Another attack slid over his head. Larsa ducked. "Larsa the Slugtoise," she teased.

Ashe shook her head. "Can you stop it, please?" she scolded at Razzia, "we're in a dir—"

"Your left," Razzia cut in. A swift dive was directed on Ashe's left. It scratched her forearm. Sharp like claws, fly like birds.

"Steeling," Basch called name of the creature living in cold darkness and feeding on hot blood. The dark made it hard to predict where the next attack would come from. Their enemy, or enemies to be exact, seemed to work in team.

The rain of jaws halted, replaced by a dead stillness. A soldier was injured by one of the gnawns. He tried his best to stop the urge to scream in pain as Penelo was looking at his wound. They all held their breath, bracing for the next raid.

There was a faint shriek, then a whizz. One, two, now. Razzia extended her staff. "Shining light, lit our sight," she chanted and clashed it on the floor. Pool of solid light burst from the tip of her staff. The steelings, dwellers of darkness and haters of light, was stunned by sudden brightness, creating a glimpse for them to strike back.

"Hey, you should cast it sooner," said Vaan excitedly. He got carried away again.

"Unimpressive it shall be then," she replied (the truth she was so into teasing Larsa).

"Under holy light, no fierce beasts are to come," Basch said with little relaxation. Furry coat of white on leather wings, they were Redgnaw variety. Good, they were not poisonous, but the claws was longer and the bodies bigger with an extra pair of wings. Effect of ferocious Mist. They had to move away from the corpses before it exploded into Mist.

"But ever under holy light we cannot be," remarked Balthier, leveling his gun at the flock of Redgnaws flying around the ball of light, waiting to revenge for their fallen friends and most to suck their blood.

"Then, one, two," Razzia counted, "three!" She shut the light off.

Ashe felt the vibration of their screech through air. The moving shadows fluttered back and forth. She heard Razzia's shallow breath. If the 'Princess' missed the timing, there might be no second chance; and Ashe did not choose to her life on other's instinct. The blade's hilt answered her grip with cold coarseness. _Rasler, please grant me the strength._

Whooshing air and the monsters were above their head at the moment Razzia lit her staff again. She was off a bit this time, a little early. But the most important was their safety, and she succeeded in maintaining it.

The Archadian mage was absorbing Mist, preventing their enemy to absorb the power while they were dealing with the winged threats. Mist was diluted enough to see the remnant steelings, realizing they were not easy meals, flying away.

"Hey," Vaan shouted and chased after a pair of yellow-glowed eyes dancing in the gloom. Got carried away like a child following a butterfly.

"Vaan!" Penelo followed.

"Tch, somebody stops that idiot," Balthier barked.

However, they all had to run after him like chasing a loose chocobo through halls to rooms. Finally, Vaan was spotted in a palatial chamber. His Talwar gleamed as it slashed at the winged beast. The steeling screeched then a thump.

"Vaan!" Penelo cried, rushing towards him.

He was stooping down to grab the tail of the fallen beast, lying motionless on the mosaic floor when Balthier hit him with his gun snout. "What the heck Balthier—" Vaan shouted.

"For your stupid heroic," the senior sky pirate condemned, "know what you might have gotten us into?"

"Hey, at least look at what I found," Vaan countered.

"Then what've you found?" Basch asked, patting his head.

He glimpsed Ashe smiling gently at them. "It's marked," Vaan grunted, pushing Basch away, "see the tag?" Suddenly the Rednaw stirred. Its claws scratched. It broke out of his grip and shot at Ashe. But it was an unhappy choice. Basch readied his blade, and Balthier his gun. Not long from its escape, the furry creature was down on floor again. This time for good.

Its body hit the ground with a thump; its tag a ting.

"This tag..." said Larsa, surveying the tag.

"They're bred?" pondered Ashe.

"Then it is to say—" added Balthier.

"There're more," Fran observed. Her red eyes stared into the depth of darkness, "I can hear them. They're stirred."

A strong whizz and mixed screeches followed her words. They steeled themselves for an attack, and terrified to find it was in fact an onslaught. It was a horde of leathered wings spearing at them like shooting stars.

Razzia held her staff tightly and shone it brighter. The party was shielded with barrier of light. The steelings soared away, eschewing the odious brightness. All was dim with moving shadows, but fast they were passing. Scattered then converged, prepared a hit but changed course because of light.

Then a sudden bright, red like that of fire. "Sacred Sangrada," cried Razzia. Her barrier had no further effect beside lighting a dark room. "O holy lights, with all the salvation; shining light, protect us from all direction. Aegis!" She chanted. Her staff emitted golden rays. Curving, embracing them, coruscating the brightest light of defense.

As if they stepped in with the wrong feet and fell into hell. It was inferno. Engulfed in flames, their only protection was a sole barrier of light. The swarm of steelings was lit under a scorching flame and falling down them like fire arrows, laying down more weigh on the bright sheet.

The barrier sagged under the pressure. Razzia grunted. She was slightly trembling and sweating. Larsa put his hand on hers. Fluid light flowed into her from him. Her staff was flooded with fresh energy, and the barrier was stable again.

However, all depended on how long. Seconds ticked by like hours. Especially when one had to place her own life on another's (rather unreliable) hand, thus, obviously, glad Ashe was when it was over. The charred steelings scattered around where they stood. Above was clear as they never existed.

"What was that?" Ashe pondered.

"Um... what about what is that?" asked Penelo, pointing at a dim red glow among purplish Mist.

The reddish glow came closer and closer, along with four other smaller ones. It was a white dot encapsulated with a marble-patterned scarlet-edged orb, sparkling in flickering flames. Followers were dancing orange fire.

"Look like we attracted the wrong sort of attention," commented Balthier.

Ghost lanterns without holders, a Salamand Entite and four Fire Elementals.

"I'd rather say step into the wrong place," gasped Razzia, gripping her staff.

Yet step they did. No turning back, Vaan charged at the new enemies. The red flickering dispersed then rejoined. It was no use to cut fire. Vaan knew. He aimed for the white core, but it was out of reach.

Fran readied ice magick. Her left shoulder hurt a bit, but the right one worked well. Her right hand was laminated with a thin veil of misty silver frazil. She pounded on the Entite, making a way through the fire orb. The mantle of flame was too thick. The Viera bounced back. Their enemy was casting another powerful fire spell, Firaga; they had to distract it before it completed.

She charged again, chanting in unknown tongue. Others were keeping four Elementals occupied during her attack. Fran shot her arm forwards, straight like an arrow. Teeth of ice burst out from her fingers. Just a little more to its core. As she thrust forwards, an opposite force was against her. Then it became a surge. Her arm started to tremble. Fran clenched to control it in vain.

"What..." she whispered.

Jumping back, Fran crouched on the ground. Now she looked like a scared rabbit than a warrior Viera.

"Fran," cried Penelo. The Viera's right hand was shivering uncontrollably. Her ears buzzed with layers of mutters.

"Forth, call forth..." Fran repeated in mumbles.

"Is it the Mist?" asked Penelo, holding her friend's hand. She was not into a fighting frenzy like last time, but tremulous like an earthquake.

"It's reacting," said the mage in blue, stumbled on his feet. He was, too, trembling. The stones were created to work voluntarily for this case. Black smoke oozed out the Nephmicite in his hand, but, basically, causing no further harm.

Their main worry should be the fiery creatures. A moment of leisure and one of the Fire Elemental granted them a nice burn of Fira. Penelo pulled Fran out of the attack with help of a soldier while Razzia helped the mage.

"Is it too long for a Firaga?" Razzia wondered, glancing at the Entite. It had been casting a spell for a while. She did not assure if her Aegis could survive another Firaga, let alone something severer.

She looked around. Vaan was with his Tulwar, Balthier his gun. The second seemed more careful with his move. Razzia tried to restrain her left hand. In their circumstance, one would not wish to be the victim of Mist by casting more spell, but magick was an effective way to handle these sort of enemy.

Then she had a glimpse of Larsa, standing still. He had been quiet for a while. He had been chanting for a spell.

"Judge Gabranth, please care for him," Razzia ordered, "Balthier-san, for Fran-san, please."

"Vaan-san, your Majesty," she shouted out. She surprised Ashe by the call. "Prepare. We retreat."

"What—"

Vaan was yet to finish his line when a roar cut in. "Ne'er-sated hunger of flame, drink the water that ne'er parch. Aquaja!"

Soon all was covered in a white spout of water. Rushing sound that like that of river. "Run" was all Vaan could hear, and obviously, he followed since who wanted to be engulfed in deluge?

They entered where they did not belong, and in despair, ran from their error.


	23. II-10 Intent

**Author Note:**

First, I want to thank the game developers of Final Fantasy XII for the good game and my inspiration for this story. As any other fan fictions, many characters and settings in this are taken from the game, but a few are somewhat the work of my invention, so I hope to retain proper rights on them. Also I want to thank my sister for proofreading and addition to my work; I knew it was not an easy job.

Next, this is what I think could explain some flaws in the story of Final Fantasy XII and what I believe would happen after the story ended. But, nothing is impeccable, so if I have some detects of my own, feel free to show me, and I'd love to hear other's opinion and ideas as well.

One more thing I don't know if I should put it here, it's about Japanese honorific, namely suffix -san and -sama. For example, Larsa addressed both Penelo and Ashe with suffix -san, but it's lost in the English translation, but I'll keep it and some other cases also. In case you don't know what they mean, just search 'Japanese honorifics'.

Last but not least, enjoy my writing and thank you for reading it :)

* * *

EPISTLES

– A Final Fantasy XII Fanfiction –

_Over the course of history, Ivalice has always been in a great struggle of dominions between great empires and kingdoms. In my time, it was Rozarria in the west, and Archadia the east. Circa year 704 the east empire made the first step in her westward march consuming two kingdoms – Nabradia and Dalmasca – in the hellfire of war. However, in year 706 as the fleet of Bahamut, Lord of the Sky, under command of the then Emperor executed the last step in her march; arose the unexpected: her advancement was hindered by Dalmascan insurgents in the Sky Battle above Rabanastre. With her commander died with honor in battle, Archadia soon fell into a cease-fire with Dalmasca – the proof of an undeniable defeat, yet also the dawn of a new era. _

_Three years after the Battle, a going from the tall tower I made in pursuit of an answer. What was the very cause of his doing? A desire for power or a devotion to a united Ivalice? A deed of vengeance or an act of love? The further it discloses the more puzzled I become. Yet it escaped me, the irretrievable time. The whole Ivalice is still slumbering in peace. A peace hanged by a single hair of a chocobo's tail… _

_ First part of the twelfth account in Rareza Memoria  
From the Royal Library of House Solidor_

* * *

**Prologue**

Month of Gemini, year 709 Old Valendia  
Rabanastre – the Royal City of Dalmasca

Penelo looked up the Royal Castle. A half of the city was still slumbering in the castle's dear embrace. Its tall towers pierced through rosy dawn sky. Only absent gazes of goddess statues answered her look. She turned away to leave then glanced back once more as if someone called out for her, only to see the slight bow of the messenger which caused her to nod awkwardly in return.

As he was straightening his back, the messenger secretly appreciated the maiden standing before him. Her golden hair was tied back in two long plaits. She dressed in dancer attire – pink baggy pants and a fitted top exposing her bare midriff. His gaze absently anchored at her mid-torso for seconds, and disappointedly at a bag of foodstuffs held in front of her chest. The bag concealed upper part of her belly and her belly was so beautiful that it caused him to wonder what sort of affairs she had with the judge for whom he worked as a go-between.

Were Penelo a clairvoyant, she would blush at his thought and embarrassedly clarify their relationship. Actually it was not the judge but his master whose letter she had been longing for. In twist of fate, she was befriended by the fourth son of the late Archadian emperor; and ever since they were corresponding until she had to leave Rabanastre for adventures with Vaan - her childhood friend. And when she returned, the very first thing she did was to write him a letter.

Her pen friend was never a poor correspondent. However, a period of time passed without his reply, and visitation of the castle was her daily chore during that time which was long enough for Penelo to feel troubled. Now with awkwardness of continual bothering added to her anxiety, going back was her best conclusion, but coming back would be for tomorrow.

People poured and filled in the once-empty lanes. A busy day was beginning. This was Rabanastre, the capital, the liveliest and the biggest of Dalmasca. Penelo went strolling along cobbled streets with her head low as if she was trying to tuck it into the bag. The tangy smell of starfruits crept into her nose reminding her of the excitement that she had when she encountered them in Muthru Bazaar, but the next thing came to her mind was how things completely contracted to her expectation.

_Penelo-san!_

A gentle voice wafted across warm air of the Royal city, yet it was likely just her imagination. That person could not be here, and it should be thus. For how she could bump into him crossing the road like common folks? He was an emperor now...

Penelo sighed and looked up the sky. Blue as ever. Little clouds scattered at the horizon disclosing clear azure sky. A typical beautiful day of Galtean peninsula. The thought that he may be looking at the same sky as she was now made it appeared brighter.

_Isn't it wondrous how we're spreading over the land still gazing at the same sky? Whenever I look up at the sky, I feel happy that we are under the same sky._

He once told her so. Penelo beamed at the thought, but her smile did not last long as a pedestrian collided with her. A cry of surprise was her sole reaction before the man walked away. A curse for her carelessness stayed in her mind a little after his shadow had gone. She stooped down to pick all the fruits and breads and Cockatrice meats that scattered by the collision. Walking shoes and boots passed her and her precious starfruits, but against the currency, a pair of leather boots was approaching her. She met a gloved hand while stretching for a starfruit, Penelo turned up but before she could say a grateful word, what she saw caused her unable to utter anything but his name.

"Larsa-sama!" cried she.

He replied with a tender smile and offered a hand to help her stand up. Behind him was his protector. Opposite to his master's small frame, the protector was a big, brawny man. He was holding her breads which gladly were warped in thick paper. Penelo could easily make out the scar across his left brow. The man she once knew as Basch now was an Archadian Judge called Gabranth. He wore close-cropped hair and black judge armor (without his helmet and cape so that he would look less conspicuous).

Penelo was whispering his name in her mind, but she had second thoughts and exchanged it into a common expression of amazement. "What a coincidence!" she uttered as she retrieved her bread from the judge, "what're you two doing here?"

"Could it be fortuitous that you're acquainted with a tavern by the name of The Sandsea?" asked Larsa.

Of course she was. The Sandsea was a popular tavern in Rabanastre, especially with hunters and sky pirates. Moreover, she was going in its direction.

"Excellent," he replied contentedly with her positive answer which met his expectation, and turned to his protector, "I shall proceed hereafter in company with Penelo-san. You may return to the Royal Castle with her lady Ashe."

"For I sue for a cessation of my presence as a third wheel," he added with a playful smile.

"Yes, my lord," Gabranth said, giving a shallow bow. He receded, but turned back, as if he forgot something, and added, "for I, too, sue for a cessation of my presence as a third wheel."

Before Penelo could express her bafflement and Larsa his protest to the remark, the judge had dissolved into the crowd. The young emperor whispered some inaudible words. A warm blush rose to his cheeks which he turned away to hide.

"Let us go," he said and segued into their walking.

Still his flush acted as a rush pushing his fleeting feet striding past Penelo. Until it quite cooled down (and he remembered that he did not know the way to the Sandsea), he reduced his speed to the extent that his position barely changed. She caught up and they started to walk side by side.

Penelo observed him; the first time since their coincidental meet. He had grown—a little taller than her now. He wore the same style as the first time they met—dark tunic over long-sleeved shirt and breeches under thigh-high boots. His signature collar brooch, which was in shape of two serpents coiling, was flapping in soft breeze. She noticed a new black coat perching atop his shoulder. An addition to his maturity.

"So what're you coming Sandsea for?" she asked.

"Oh, I have an appointment there."

_Who could it be_, she wondered, but decided not to ask. This could be top-secret. _It's likely Al-Cid._

"Beautiful day, isn't?" he remarked, stretching his arm to touch the sky. Sunlight played on his silk sleeve and wind flirted with his black shoulder-touching hair.

"I hope that your plan went beautifully as the day," he turned to look her in curiosity.

Penelo wrote him about her plan, not revealing anything special. She wanted it to be a little surprise for him and would be more than happy to show off her accomplishment. Unfortunately, her plan was not even close to a success. She shook her head in reply.

"Then may Sor be with you as he was with me," he bid.

"So you meant you achieved your goal," she uttered out loud, "what was it?"

"I disregard it as a goal, but I'm glad."

He ran his fingers across his chin in contemplation. "My reply letter has not yet to arrive?"

"Not yet, but when you're here, why don't you just tell me?" she suggested; her honey eyes gleamed in eagerness.

"That'd ruin your delight of disclosing my letter, I'm afraid," he resumed his stroll, then with a mysterious smile, he looked at her eyes and added, "you will have to wait and see it for yourself."

It was his catchphrase; Penelo felt a mixed feeling of both love and hate for it. Larsa loved to keep his secret, and he did not mean ill by it. She giggled stealthily.

_Time may have changed many things, but in his heart, he's still the same Larsa._

"Since 'tis hours before my appointed time, we could have a drink in the Sandsea where you could relate your adventures in Orladia," he suggested, and obviously, Penelo gladly agreed.

Her braids and his coat sleeves were fluttering in wind together as they were strolling. Wind carried mild fragrance of Galbana lilies; and it smelled clearer than usual and blended with another scent—a warm and woody, or perhaps her mood was just playing with her sense. She just knew that it was pleasant, and it was spring.


	24. II-11 Shadowy Past

**11\. SHADOWY PAST**

The war occurred five years ago, the westward march of Archadia, the invasion of two kingdoms – Nabradia and Dalmasca. It was believed to be a struggle for power between Men; however, lurking beneath it was something more: a war between the gods – the Ocurrias.

Long had they steered the human history up from their eternal thrones. Creators of powerful nethicite they are, and with power they choose like some and crush the rest. More than seven hundred years ago, the Dynast-King Raithwall, Dalmasca's ancestor, was chosen to bring the peace to Ivalice.

Until the day Venat, the heretic Ocurria, skew the history's weave and gave the knowledge of the Stone to Man, and the chosen was Vayne Solidor, Larsa's elder brother. Maddened by the trespassers' acts, the Occuria chose one to pass their judgement. The chosen was Ashelia Dalmasca, the current Queen of Dalmasca.

It appeared that their choice was not happy as it supposed to be.

"Well, then, I found no surprise if they would choose Rozzaria this time," observed Razzia. "Since her Majesty declined their offer, not to cut the Nethicite and destroy Archadia Empire," she added after a brief pause to have a sip of tea. Her voice was calm.

They were back to Milieu Manse, sitting at the glass table in grand foyer. Razzia asked them about Occuria, and they were having a discussion on past, present and future.

Razzia regained her strength after a short relaxation. Her arm stopped trembling. Fran and the mage were not so lucky. They were resting in rooms upstairs. Yet, the worst was, obviously, Larsa, still unconscious.

"And they wanna start a war..." Penelo hesitated, stirring her cup, her gaze anchor at the white foxgloves vase on the table.

"We are the arbiters of our own destiny," said Basch, "Occuria might want the war, but it won't occur if we all, Dalmasca, Archadia and Rozzaria, sue for peace."

"Oh, I know," Penelo cried cheerfully, "Larsa-sama and Razzia-sama's wedding will bring the two empires together."

"Well, that's if Larsa make it," said Vaan and bit a cookie, glancing at Razzia. She said no word, just touching her golden ring.

"Vaan!" Penelo scolded.

"How's his Excellency?" Basch asked as he noticed Magister Lukio was stepping downstairs.

"He's fine, but you should've waited for me to come," he sighed.

"We need investigate at once. And it was his Excellency's decision."

"That says Larsa is to blame," Razzia joined in, standing up, "now, may I see him?"

"His Magister is sleeping."

"Very well. I won't wake him up," she declared and dashed upstairs.

The Magister's gaze followed her slender figure ascending with alacrity. A silver gleam reflected on the round-headed bird carved on dagger pommel. "Is she Lady Razzia?" He asked.

"Aye," the Judge nodded.

Thus, they left her see Larsa in private. For a while, she had just sat and looked her betrothed slumbering in silence.

"Larsa. Now, have you seen it?" Razzia whispered; her fingers caressed along his peaceful face, "your dream will not come true. Not in your way."

His eyes closed. His chest moved up and down evenly. Inside it was a heart, a beating heart. Alive. Razzia reluctantly reached to her belt, near where her dagger was hung. She felt a cold sting as she touched the pommel.

Penelo closed the door behind her. She had just done checking Fran. The Viera was good, but fatigued. They all were exhausted. It was time to rest and find something to fill their empty stomachs. She would cook something for them after checking Larsa. Maybe Razzia-sama, too, wanted to cook something for him.

Having cracked the door softly, Penelo poked her head into and carefully surveyed the master chamber. Lady Razzia was sitting on a velvet stool beside the big four-poster with blue and gold curtains. A pool of light stretched her shadow on the checked marble floor. As she approached, the dancer noticed something strange. The Lady convulsed as if she was pulling something with great effort.

"Razzia-sama—" Penelo was asking what she was doing, but the Lady startled and whirled back to look at her with astonishment. Suddenly, she tilted, losing her balance. Her face was on the floor if Penelo did not catch her in time.

"Aha!" Razzia cheered once she sat still again. On her right hand was a brush – one that Larsa had confiscated. It was tucked into Larsa's belt until being pulled out. With eagerness, she dipped it into a black ink pot and started to write it on Larsa's cheek. "I-am-a-Slugtoise," she murmured.

"R-Razzia-sama," Penelo tried to stop her with a weak voice.

"Interested?" Razzia asked, offered her the brush. She hesitated. "Don't worry. I think Larsa is still unconscious," the Lady encouraged her.

"My Lady, I dare not," Penelo declined.

"Oh, Larsa will not hang you for scribbling on his face," Razzia said, resuming her work on the fore head, "but should you fear troubles, just say all was done by me."

"He's gonna be mad."

"That's what it's for." Razzia said, tilting her head to admire her new drawing in different angles. It was a bell with four short legs and tiny eyes, hardly could be interpreted as her subject, a tortoise. To Penelo, she added, "I say his angry face is humorous."

"Say, how's Fran-san?" the Lady asked as she was scribbling on the other cheek.

"She's good. Oh, right, everyone needs a break, so I'm thinking of cooking a good meal for them."

"If I may, I suggest tortoise soup. It'd fit for the (tortoise) emperor," she said, smiling, waving her hands on Larsa's head to make two artificial ears. Penelo covered her mouth with the hand, finding herself both laughing and frowning at the sight. Larsa's face was crammed with black doodling.

"So, are you interested in lending me a hand?" Penelo suggested.

"Well," she swayed her head, secretly glancing at Larsa, "if you don't mind my inexperience in cooking."

As the only daughter of Grand Duke of East Ordalia and the (rumored) precious Princess of House Margrace, Razzia rarely stepped into the kitchen. She considered honing some culinary skills while she was living with Nico, but Nico banned her from the kitchen after almost setting it on fire.

"How is it?"

The two ladies were anxiously anticipating the reaction for their efforts. There were some dishes: fruit salads with soft cheese (specially made for Fran), flat manas bread with cured meat and herb sauce, blackmele tart and tea (Razzia could hardly finished a meal without tea) and of course the star of today – tortoise soup. It was the first time they made tortoise soup. Quite a mess they had created to clean the tortoise.

As they made a big lunch, Magister Lukio and Amont – the mage, were invited to join. The magister did not know how he should say. She was the Emperor's, and High Magister, future wife. Ashe shook her head. Even an excellent cook such as Penelo could not teach the Princess to cook properly. Fran calmly forked a melon piece in others' awe and envy.

"Hey, it's not bad," started Vaan.

"It has a unique delicacy of its own," commented Balthier.

"Aye, it's pretty good for the first try," praised Basch.

Razzia scooped a spoonful of the soup for herself. _Gulp!_ She almost spilt it up. Quickly grabbing her cup of tea, she downed it with the fragrant rose tea. The soup was not a pleasure to look: thick orange liquid with lumpy cubes of brown meat. But it was hoped to be opposite in taste.

The Lady hid her head under her palms. It still lingered on her throat as slimy substance with tinge of strong sourness. "All pleasantries," sighed Razzia and continued eating her soup, "thank you, nevertheless."

"I guessed tortoise soup isn't an easy meal," said Penelo, scraping the back of her head, "but Larsa-sama's gonna love it."

"Definitely he will, he's Mr. Whatever," she mumbled, secretly peeping into the kitchen, where a half big pot of soup located. It was reserved for her betrothed. "You needn't eat it if it doesn't taste properly," she added in a loud, clear voice.

"Don't worry. Everyone enjoys themselves, right?" Penelo soothed; they nodded in reply.

Naive Penelo. Razzia could easily notice their sub rosa look at other dishes. But if they wished not to hurt Penelo's, and also hers, feeling publicly, she would condone it. The meal continued in her silence. All the time Razzia was trying her best to gulp more soup, and so was everyone else. It was a long lunch, every unpleasant thing is long, but over it was.

After helping the cleaning, they retired to the drawing room. Vaan and Balthier was playing some cards game with Ashe and Basch watching. Fran was lying in the communicating room, resuming her rest and trying her best to recall the whispers that she heard during the trance but nothing came to mind. From here, Penelo could see a corner of the garden with the sapphire pond and a tinkling man-made waterfall. The garden was refulgent with summer blooms – cactus roses, tomato flowers and lilies. A stroll along graveled path lined with their colors and scent would be refreshing. But she could not find Razzia. The Lady said she went for a walk. She could be in another part; the garden was large, she guessed.

The room was shaken with a cheer. It seemed they were having an exciting game. Penelo thought that she would fetch them some fruits and sweets. There were tart leftovers from the meal (actually the tarts were untouched as they focused greatly on the soup).

She walked down the foyer, then to the kitchen sitting neatly beneath the stairs. The kitchen anticipated her arrival with clung-clang noise. Someone was cooking something. To her surprise, Penelo found the familiar back of Razzia twice in the day convulsing as if she was pulling something hard. Again she startled as she heard Penelo was coming. The Lady's face was dirtied with soot.

Larsa would not taste it, or his betrothed decided thus. Therefore, shortly having done with the meal, Razzia made an excuse to go out and carry her clandestine plan to eradicate the soup. With all her determination and strength, still she could not lift the pot. Perhaps she would need a hand.

"Why? Larsa-sama's gonna love it," Penelo refused.

"I know he would not disparage it. He cannot taste a thing!"

"Eh?" Penelo was gazing her with big, round honey eyes.

"You don't know that?" Razzia was gazing back with blinking sand-rose eyes.

It was quite a secret (and scandal if revealed) for an Emperor to have ageusia, or loss of taste, and (assumedly) anosmia, loss of smell, also. Razzia had conducted many test and experiments on Larsa to confirm it and so had they a little secret. As the sky pirates and Larsa were close, she believed that Penelo had known that.

"No way. Larsa-same gave me lots of advice on the cooking," Penelo said in disbelief. Actually, it was not her, but Kassy lady of the sweet shop. Anyway, Larsa was meticulous at what he ate.

"He just read it in food and culinary arts books then relate it," she explained. He confided in her.

"It can't be," Penelo refused to believe that the Larsa that praised her cooking had a malfunctioned palate. "Then why must you discard the soup?"

Razzia smudged the soot on her face with the finger. She realized it must be unwise, but... "I just wish him not to see my failed dish."

She did not seem to lie, yet Penelo still could not believe it. Both were insistent on their belief. Thus it settled on a wager. The soup was pardoned, and Larsa would taste it. Penelo would enquire of Larsa about its taste. If the Emperor could give them a satisfactory answer, Penelo would win.

The two retired together with a tray of tea and tarts. The door knob turned quietly. Soon after the door was cracked, Vaan greeted them.

"Hey, Penelo. They're gonna do a thorough investigation of the underground complex," said her partner and dashed out of the room right after she just entered. Penelo stood still, she hardly moved. "Let's go," his voice diminished along with his steps.

"Penelo-san?" Razzia shook her hand softly, "won't you go with us?"

"Um... " Penelo faltered. It took her a few seconds to reclaim her sanity. "You don't stay until Larsa-sama wakes up?"

Razzia whirled back as her foot stomped on the threshold. "Oh. No, I don't."

"But, you don't wanna be with him?"

"I don't see why. My presence does him no better."

Razzia paused then added, "what are you afeard of? He's not a child, he should need no nanny. And so does Mr. Vaan." One more fact she did not want to tell Penelo straightly was that despite being with him, she was impuissant to stop him.

But Penelo knew it. "But if anything happens to Vaan, I... I won't be alone," Penelo stammered, deflating on the nearby chair. Some cards are downturned on the table; they were in middle of a game.

"It's yours to decide. Only I say this is not how it should be."

Penelo hesitated. "Then maybe I should make a change."

"Be troubled not. I'll have an eye on him for you," Razzia offered. Before she could utter a thank you, the Lady turned to look her once last time. "Love yourself, Penelo-san. Don't let the memories consume you."

Penelo sat still. From upstairs, voices could be heard. Vaan's was diminished strong and confident. "Hey, where's Penelo?"

Razzia replied with a softened, "she needs rest."

"What's wrong with her? She didn't..." it got smaller and smaller.

The dancer headed to the window to see her partner's shape passing through the garden, then the main gate. His arms were crossed over his head confidently, just like Thos, her third brother, did in the hazy spring morning.

At the time, Penelo was, too, sitting by window, looking down the street. Men in shiny armors bustled in the street. Leather lappets of their skirts spun like flowers as they turned to leave. Fourteen-year-old Penelo raced downstairs, past the front room to the doorsteps, just in time to have a glimpse of her brother before they had gone.

They said they were losing Nalbina Fortress. Mama said no word; she was blinking her tears. Her two elder sons joined the Dalmasca forces to set forth for Nalbina, and no news of their survivals was heard. Papa was patting him on the shoulder; they looked at each other face to face, man to man.

"I'll be back." Penelo recalled his words, his smile as he saw her panting for both fear and running.

And he never came back.

Neither did her other brothers, nor her father, nor her mother, nor Reks. All she had now was Vaan, and he was leaving. She could never sit by that window slid again.

* * *

Royal City of Rabanastre, Dalmasca

Beneath Aminestié Theater

"'Tis hard to believe that you're a part of them," said Revenas, sitting on a comfortable armchair. He was curious if it was the same chair that his Excellency seated himself to watch the play.

Some candles were thrown around, throwing pools of lights, while the rest of the room was lost in shadow. It was a nice, well-lit room considering its location, the storage beneath the theater of friendship, though it was not a part of the wardrobe and storage, only located near. It was one of the remnants of the Old Resistance quarters.

The black-haired man sat with him leant forwards, shedding some light on his face. "It proved that we did a splendid job," he said with his chin rest on his crossed hands.

Both Dalmasca and Archadia had an eye on the theater, yet missed the place. They concealed themselves well. The New Resistance. Still Revenas did not like the way they fueled Nico's play and used it as a covert.

"Her Majesty's being with them, investigating the strange Mist in Westersand," the black-haired continued.

"Ashe should think of her station."

"He's alone in Millieu Manse without his protector."

"And you see this as a chance, huh, Folge?" Revenas crossed his arms, slowly resting his back on the upholstery.

"Vurmas's wing is a claque of Archadia. Dalmasca needs you, my lord."

He knew that. Only have to waiting for the Queen to realize it herself. "Yes, but as long as the Emperor has his crown, her throne is absolute."

"It shall not be long."

"... you did?"

"So are you with us?"

Flickering fires, easy to be blown off. How he had foreseen, yet disappointed when it became true.


	25. II-12 The Calm

**11\. SHADOWY PAST**

The war occurred five years ago, the westward march of Archadia, the invasion of two kingdoms – Nabradia and Dalmasca. It was believed to be a struggle for power between Men; however, lurking beneath it was something more: a war between the gods – the Ocurrias.

Long had they steered the human history up from their eternal thrones. Creators of powerful nethicite they are, and with power they choose like some and crush the rest. More than seven hundred years ago, the Dynast-King Raithwall, Dalmasca's ancestor, was chosen to bring the peace to Ivalice.

Until the day Venat, the heretic Ocurria, skew the history's weave and gave the knowledge of the Stone to Man, and the chosen was Vayne Solidor, Larsa's elder brother. Maddened by the trespassers' acts, the Occuria chose one to pass their judgement. The chosen was Ashelia Dalmasca, the current Queen of Dalmasca.

It appeared that their choice was not happy as it supposed to be.

"Well, then, I found no surprise if they would choose Rozzaria this time," observed Razzia. "Since her Majesty declined their offer, not to cut the Nethicite and destroy Archadia Empire," she added after a brief pause to have a sip of tea. Her voice was calm.

They were back to Milieu Manse, sitting at the glass table in grand foyer. Razzia asked them about Occuria, and they were having a discussion on past, present and future.

Razzia regained her strength after a short relaxation. Her arm stopped trembling. Fran and the mage were not so lucky. They were resting in rooms upstairs. Yet, the worst was, obviously, Larsa, still unconscious.

"And they wanna start a war..." Penelo hesitated, stirring her cup, her gaze anchor at the white foxgloves vase on the table.

"We are the arbiters of our own destiny," said Basch, "Occuria might want the war, but it won't occur if we all, Dalmasca, Archadia and Rozzaria, sue for peace."

"Oh, I know," Penelo cried cheerfully, "Larsa-sama and Razzia-sama's wedding will bring the two empires together."

"Well, that's if Larsa make it," said Vaan and bit a cookie, glancing at Razzia. She said no word, just touching her golden ring.

"Vaan!" Penelo scolded.

"How's his Excellency?" Basch asked as he noticed Magister Lukio was stepping downstairs.

"He's fine, but you should've waited for me to come," he sighed.

"We need investigate at once. And it was his Excellency's decision."

"That says Larsa is to blame," Razzia joined in, standing up, "now, may I see him?"

"His Magister is sleeping."

"Very well. I won't wake him up," she declared and dashed upstairs.

The Magister's gaze followed her slender figure ascending with alacrity. A silver gleam reflected on the round-headed bird carved on dagger pommel. "Is she Lady Razzia?" He asked.

"Aye," the Judge nodded.

Thus, they left her see Larsa in private. For a while, she had just sat and looked her betrothed slumbering in silence.

"Larsa. Now, have you seen it?" Razzia whispered; her fingers caressed along his peaceful face, "your dream will not come true. Not in your way."

His eyes closed. His chest moved up and down evenly. Inside it was a heart, a beating heart. Alive. Razzia reluctantly reached to her belt, near where her dagger was hung. She felt a cold sting as she touched the pommel.

Penelo closed the door behind her. She had just done checking Fran. The Viera was good, but fatigued. They all were exhausted. It was time to rest and find something to fill their empty stomachs. She would cook something for them after checking Larsa. Maybe Razzia-sama, too, wanted to cook something for him.

Having cracked the door softly, Penelo poked her head into and carefully surveyed the master chamber. Lady Razzia was sitting on a velvet stool beside the big four-poster with blue and gold curtains. A pool of light stretched her shadow on the checked marble floor. As she approached, the dancer noticed something strange. The Lady convulsed as if she was pulling something with great effort.

"Razzia-sama—" Penelo was asking what she was doing, but the Lady startled and whirled back to look at her with astonishment. Suddenly, she tilted, losing her balance. Her face was on the floor if Penelo did not catch her in time.

"Aha!" Razzia cheered once she sat still again. On her right hand was a brush – one that Larsa had confiscated. It was tucked into Larsa's belt until being pulled out. With eagerness, she dipped it into a black ink pot and started to write it on Larsa's cheek. "I-am-a-Slugtoise," she murmured.

"R-Razzia-sama," Penelo tried to stop her with a weak voice.

"Interested?" Razzia asked, offered her the brush. She hesitated. "Don't worry. I think Larsa is still unconscious," the Lady encouraged her.

"My Lady, I dare not," Penelo declined.

"Oh, Larsa will not hang you for scribbling on his face," Razzia said, resuming her work on the fore head, "but should you fear troubles, just say all was done by me."

"He's gonna be mad."

"That's what it's for." Razzia said, tilting her head to admire her new drawing in different angles. It was a bell with four short legs and tiny eyes, hardly could be interpreted as her subject, a tortoise. To Penelo, she added, "I say his angry face is humorous."

"Say, how's Fran-san?" the Lady asked as she was scribbling on the other cheek.

"She's good. Oh, right, everyone needs a break, so I'm thinking of cooking a good meal for them."

"If I may, I suggest tortoise soup. It'd fit for the (tortoise) emperor," she said, smiling, waving her hands on Larsa's head to make two artificial ears. Penelo covered her mouth with the hand, finding herself both laughing and frowning at the sight. Larsa's face was crammed with black doodling.

"So, are you interested in lending me a hand?" Penelo suggested.

"Well," she swayed her head, secretly glancing at Larsa, "if you don't mind my inexperience in cooking."

As the only daughter of Grand Duke of East Ordalia and the (rumored) precious Princess of House Margrace, Razzia rarely stepped into the kitchen. She considered honing some culinary skills while she was living with Nico, but Nico banned her from the kitchen after almost setting it on fire.

"How is it?"

The two ladies were anxiously anticipating the reaction for their efforts. There were some dishes: fruit salads with soft cheese (specially made for Fran), flat manas bread with cured meat and herb sauce, blackmele tart and tea (Razzia could hardly finished a meal without tea) and of course the star of today – tortoise soup. It was the first time they made tortoise soup. Quite a mess they had created to clean the tortoise.

As they made a big lunch, Magister Lukio and Amont – the mage, were invited to join. The magister did not know how he should say. She was the Emperor's, and High Magister, future wife. Ashe shook her head. Even an excellent cook such as Penelo could not teach the Princess to cook properly. Fran calmly forked a melon piece in others' awe and envy.

"Hey, it's not bad," started Vaan.

"It has a unique delicacy of its own," commented Balthier.

"Aye, it's pretty good for the first try," praised Basch.

Razzia scooped a spoonful of the soup for herself. _Gulp!_ She almost spilt it up. Quickly grabbing her cup of tea, she downed it with the fragrant rose tea. The soup was not a pleasure to look: thick orange liquid with lumpy cubes of brown meat. But it was hoped to be opposite in taste.

The Lady hid her head under her palms. It still lingered on her throat as slimy substance with tinge of strong sourness. "All pleasantries," sighed Razzia and continued eating her soup, "thank you, nevertheless."

"I guessed tortoise soup isn't an easy meal," said Penelo, scraping the back of her head, "but Larsa-sama's gonna love it."

"Definitely he will, he's Mr. Whatever," she mumbled, secretly peeping into the kitchen, where a half big pot of soup located. It was reserved for her betrothed. "You needn't eat it if it doesn't taste properly," she added in a loud, clear voice.

"Don't worry. Everyone enjoys themselves, right?" Penelo soothed; they nodded in reply.

Naive Penelo. Razzia could easily notice their sub rosa look at other dishes. But if they wished not to hurt Penelo's, and also hers, feeling publicly, she would condone it. The meal continued in her silence. All the time Razzia was trying her best to gulp more soup, and so was everyone else. It was a long lunch, every unpleasant thing is long, but over it was.

After helping the cleaning, they retired to the drawing room. Vaan and Balthier was playing some cards game with Ashe and Basch watching. Fran was lying in the communicating room, resuming her rest and trying her best to recall the whispers that she heard during the trance but nothing came to mind. From here, Penelo could see a corner of the garden with the sapphire pond and a tinkling man-made waterfall. The garden was refulgent with summer blooms – cactus roses, tomato flowers and lilies. A stroll along graveled path lined with their colors and scent would be refreshing. But she could not find Razzia. The Lady said she went for a walk. She could be in another part; the garden was large, she guessed.

The room was shaken with a cheer. It seemed they were having an exciting game. Penelo thought that she would fetch them some fruits and sweets. There were tart leftovers from the meal (actually the tarts were untouched as they focused greatly on the soup).

She walked down the foyer, then to the kitchen sitting neatly beneath the stairs. The kitchen anticipated her arrival with clung-clang noise. Someone was cooking something. To her surprise, Penelo found the familiar back of Razzia twice in the day convulsing as if she was pulling something hard. Again she startled as she heard Penelo was coming. The Lady's face was dirtied with soot.

Larsa would not taste it, or his betrothed decided thus. Therefore, shortly having done with the meal, Razzia made an excuse to go out and carry her clandestine plan to eradicate the soup. With all her determination and strength, still she could not lift the pot. Perhaps she would need a hand.

"Why? Larsa-sama's gonna love it," Penelo refused.

"I know he would not disparage it. He cannot taste a thing!"

"Eh?" Penelo was gazing her with big, round honey eyes.

"You don't know that?" Razzia was gazing back with blinking sand-rose eyes.

It was quite a secret (and scandal if revealed) for an Emperor to have ageusia, or loss of taste, and (assumedly) anosmia, loss of smell, also. Razzia had conducted many test and experiments on Larsa to confirm it and so had they a little secret. As the sky pirates and Larsa were close, she believed that Penelo had known that.

"No way. Larsa-same gave me lots of advice on the cooking," Penelo said in disbelief. Actually, it was not her, but Kassy lady of the sweet shop. Anyway, Larsa was meticulous at what he ate.

"He just read it in food and culinary arts books then relate it," she explained. He confided in her.

"It can't be," Penelo refused to believe that the Larsa that praised her cooking had a malfunctioned palate. "Then why must you discard the soup?"

Razzia smudged the soot on her face with the finger. She realized it must be unwise, but... "I just wish him not to see my failed dish."

She did not seem to lie, yet Penelo still could not believe it. Both were insistent on their belief. Thus it settled on a wager. The soup was pardoned, and Larsa would taste it. Penelo would enquire of Larsa about its taste. If the Emperor could give them a satisfactory answer, Penelo would win.

The two retired together with a tray of tea and tarts. The door knob turned quietly. Soon after the door was cracked, Vaan greeted them.

"Hey, Penelo. They're gonna do a thorough investigation of the underground complex," said her partner and dashed out of the room right after she just entered. Penelo stood still, she hardly moved. "Let's go," his voice diminished along with his steps.

"Penelo-san?" Razzia shook her hand softly, "won't you go with us?"

"Um... " Penelo faltered. It took her a few seconds to reclaim her sanity. "You don't stay until Larsa-sama wakes up?"

Razzia whirled back as her foot stomped on the threshold. "Oh. No, I don't."

"But, you don't wanna be with him?"

"I don't see why. My presence does him no better."

Razzia paused then added, "what are you afeard of? He's not a child, he should need no nanny. And so does Mr. Vaan." One more fact she did not want to tell Penelo straightly was that despite being with him, she was impuissant to stop him.

But Penelo knew it. "But if anything happens to Vaan, I... I won't be alone," Penelo stammered, deflating on the nearby chair. Some cards are downturned on the table; they were in middle of a game.

"It's yours to decide. Only I say this is not how it should be."

Penelo hesitated. "Then maybe I should make a change."

"Be troubled not. I'll have an eye on him for you," Razzia offered. Before she could utter a thank you, the Lady turned to look her once last time. "Love yourself, Penelo-san. Don't let the memories consume you."

Penelo sat still. From upstairs, voices could be heard. Vaan's was diminished strong and confident. "Hey, where's Penelo?"

Razzia replied with a softened, "she needs rest."

"What's wrong with her? She didn't..." it got smaller and smaller.

The dancer headed to the window to see her partner's shape passing through the garden, then the main gate. His arms were crossed over his head confidently, just like Thos, her third brother, did in the hazy spring morning.

At the time, Penelo was, too, sitting by window, looking down the street. Men in shiny armors bustled in the street. Leather lappets of their skirts spun like flowers as they turned to leave. Fourteen-year-old Penelo raced downstairs, past the front room to the doorsteps, just in time to have a glimpse of her brother before they had gone.

They said they were losing Nalbina Fortress. Mama said no word; she was blinking her tears. Her two elder sons joined the Dalmasca forces to set forth for Nalbina, and no news of their survivals was heard. Papa was patting him on the shoulder; they looked at each other face to face, man to man.

"I'll be back." Penelo recalled his words, his smile as he saw her panting for both fear and running.

And he never came back.

Neither did her other brothers, nor her father, nor her mother, nor Reks. All she had now was Vaan, and he was leaving. She could never sit by that window slid again.

* * *

Royal City of Rabanastre, Dalmasca

Beneath Aminestié Theater

"'Tis hard to believe that you're a part of them," said Revenas, sitting on a comfortable armchair. He was curious if it was the same chair that his Excellency seated himself to watch the play.

Some candles were thrown around, throwing pools of lights, while the rest of the room was lost in shadow. It was a nice, well-lit room considering its location, the storage beneath the theater of friendship, though it was not a part of the wardrobe and storage, only located near. It was one of the remnants of the Old Resistance quarters.

The black-haired man sat with him leant forwards, shedding some light on his face. "It proved that we did a splendid job," he said with his chin rest on his crossed hands.

Both Dalmasca and Archadia had an eye on the theater, yet missed the place. They concealed themselves well. The New Resistance. Still Revenas did not like the way they fueled Nico's play and used it as a covert.

"Her Majesty's being with them, investigating the strange Mist in Westersand," the black-haired continued.

"Ashe should think of her station."

"He's alone in Millieu Manse without his protector."

"And you see this as a chance, huh, Folge?" Revenas crossed his arms, slowly resting his back on the upholstery.

"Vurmas's wing is a claque of Archadia. Dalmasca needs you, my lord."

He knew that. Only have to waiting for the Queen to realize it herself. "Yes, but as long as the Emperor has his crown, her throne is absolute."

"It shall not be long."

"... you did?"

"So are you with us?"

Flickering fires, easy to be blown off. How he had foreseen, yet disappointed when it became true.


	26. II-13 A Short Rest

**13\. A SHORT REST**

After the dinner at Milieu Manse, Basch escorted them (in fact Razzia) back their home. Vaan had a sound sleep. The Mist stuffs had nothing to do with Archadia. He was somewhat satisfied with that (though the mystery of Larsa's father was yet to reveal, but he had no way to unravel it anyway).

The next morning was the queerest Vaan ever had. He was woken up by cries of surprise and defiance. Luckily, his mood was good as the dark cloud was lifted, clear sky revealed. So he did not mind it. The sky pirate rubbed his eyes. Strangely, Kytes was not in the room. He followed the sound and found Kytes was in the front room with Penelo, Razzia and Larsa and a faint rank smell.

"Cool, how did you do that?" cried Kytes.

"Erm... I," Larsa hesitated. His eyes were bound with a kerchief.

Razzia were checking if the tie was not tight and light leaked through. "It cannot be," she murmured. Then she noticed Vaan and hushed him before he could ask what smell it was. He was dragged into the kitchen and asked to pour a cup of water, then dragged outside and the cup was given to Larsa to taste.

"Again," Razzia said to her betrothed.

"Hm... 'tis not Razzia, nor Penelo-san nor Kytes-san," Larsa answered, "who's the creator of this bland taste?"

"He got it right!" cried Kytes in surprise.

"It cannot be..." Razzia whispered with fingers resting on her chin.

"So what're you doing?" Vaan asked, still had no idea.

"Just a little test," replied Penelo, cleaning all the cups on the table. There were seven cups in total, including his. All was plain water, except for one with strange smell, others were same to Vaan, and he could not understand why they needed so many cups.

"Accept it, Razzia. You lost to Penelo-San," Larsa said, taking off the kerchief, smiling confidently as if it was him who won.

"Happy, aren't you?" she smiled wryly, pinching his cheek.

"Penelo-san, did you have the punishment for Razzia?" he was still smiling even though Razzia was pulling his face like a professional cook stretched noodles. He continued as Penelo shook her head, "how about having her cooked dinner for you?"

"Excellent idea," his betrothed sneered, "I'll be busy preparing dinner. Pray that you enjoy your day alone."

"But—"

"I never said yes, did I?" interjected Razzia.

"It's not a punishment but if I say you do," joined Penelo, carrying a big bowl of Behemoth stew. She was in a frenzy of Archadian cuisine.

"Yes. Now 'tis a real punishment," said the betrothed lady, then she chuckled and patted on Larsa's cheeks. He leant backwards to avoid.

Things were settled. Although Vaan did not have a slightest clue, he still sat down and had the breakfast. Kytes praised the stew. It was better than any Penelo's dishes for past months. The boy was glad to find that Archadian food was in fact very edible. Migelo ate one bowl more than usual. He, too, loved the stew (still Larsa's gift of red Burdigala more, and Vaan could not get why the Emperor gave him a bottle of wine in the morning). Vaan could not say for sure if he liked it or not, just ate in silence.

The couple went out for a date (the first official time since they met) after the nice breakfast. Everyone else resumed their daily routines.

"I still can't believe. Are they really gonna get married?" asked Kytes after they had gone.

"Yeah!" Penelo replied in excitement, "it's next year."

The boy gave a 'wow' in awe, unable to think the young Emperor only three years older than him. "Hey, Vaan, if you do it now, maybe you could be married same time as Larsa."

Vaan was caught by surprise. "Huh?" was all he could utter.

Migelo glanced at him, sending a private appeal for his reply. So appealing that Penelo had to change the topic for him, "I have practice today. Gotta go. See ya later."

"She's a nice girl," whispered Migelo, "I don't want to see her bright beam shedding tears." Vaan just nodded. He had already known that. The old bangaa sighed, and walked slowly to work.

Vaan could not get what was wrong. It was the queerest morning, to add more flavor, the sky pirate did not start his day with a delivery to the Sandsea tavern. In fact, he did not come to Migelo's shop at all.

Cobbled streets turned pale under early Leo sun. Vaan turned to a still corner with lines of palm running along. Long leaves glimmered with white flashes. In distance were burning red Galbana lily beds and the Manse stood still in their embrace. It was cool like harsh sun never reached here.

Vaan came for Fidal. He was eager to relate him about stuffs in Westersand. Hope that he did not get too worried. But the answer, against his expectation, was no. Fidal was not at the Manse. He was with Lord Revenas, presumably, in Lowtown.

"Hey, Vaan, you were with Captain three years ago, right?" a former Dalmascan soldier asked him right before he was about to leave.

Van nodded in reply. "So what?"

"No, nothing. Just out of curiosity," he hesitated, "I was wondering. Captain was loyal to Dalmasca, wasn't he?"

It was a weird remark. The man said no more and got back inside. Vaan winced. His gut was telling him there was something. Something quite wrong. He turned sharply to the stairs to Lowtown. Soon the world of dazzling light was behind. He groped in the North in the unlit sprawl for the black gate, and thrust inside without bothering to knock.

"You cannot have known about Captain, my lord!" A hasty voice tore the calmness of the morning.

"Calm down, Eskar." It was Fidal's, and it was not calm at all.

Seating himself on an armchair, Lord Revenas rested his forehead on the index finger. He had enough headache of the rumor. The Home was empty now. He was right to ask Deik to give the children an early field trip.

"But is it true that he's alive in guise of his twin brother and sold Dalmasca to the Empire?"

"Watch your tongue!"

"Captain Basch was missing in Bahamut while protecting her Majesty," said Revenas at long last, "he was loyal to Dalmasca till his last moment and would be thus if he survived."

The man paused. He seemed grasping something. "Forgive me. I was too petulant," he said and bowed before leaving.

Right after he had gone, it was Vaan's turn. "Hey, what's with Captain?" joined he with wide eyes and big mouth.

Fidal looked at him with moon-eyed gaze both by his presence and his question, "you haven't heard it?"

When they were busy digging Westersand, words were spreading. This time was about Basch. His little secret of taking his Judge twin brother's identity ran rife in streets and lanes of Dalmasca, clashing with the Queen's story of his missing in mission in the sky battle. To cook an appealing rumor, the question of his allegiance was raised up highly.

"They don't say they doubt Basch," said Vaan angrily, "all he did was for Dalmasca."

Reve did not care for what Basch thought he 'sacrificed'; he just wanted to laugh, but could not. How could they ask loyalty to Dalmasca from one who is not Dalmascan from the beginning?

"Is this what you meant?" Vaan asked out of blue, "of Basch in danger?"

Reve rested his elbow on the manchette. His friend was slow in his wit. "This has grown beyond your concern."

"Basch is my friend."

Reve carelessly glanced at Vaan. His eyes glowed. His brows lowered in deep furrows. "'Tis too late," the former chancellor said calmly.

"So you're gonna abandon him? Just tell me, and I'll do it my own way," the sky pirate replied, almost shouted.

Reve smirked. His smile was both mocking and charming. "The trap has been set, and Basch is not their target."

"Say," he continued, "such rumors. Who holds greatest responsibility in this?"

"You don't say," Vaan hesitated. He did not believe what he just realized, "Larsa?"

Basch disguised himself as a Judge Magister. His direct superior officer, the Emperor himself, could not deny his culpability. Having acknowledged it or not, both answers exposed a fissure to place a knife onto.

"I'll go tell him," Vaan declared and rushed outside.

"My Lord?" Fidal was surprised to see his lord appeared to enjoy.

"O, green days," Revenas was chuckling very softly, "what time has deprived of me."

Fidal raised his brows, forgot all manners, "d-don't say that. You're just halfway."

A little more halfway of average life span to be exact, but men at his age could expect to live more than forty. If Reve were in his early days, he might be running around, helping Basch as well. But when he turned twenty-five, three months before she took her own life, he learnt that fate was ruthless. Some was born to use; some was predestined to be used. Use then be used. Be used then use. Basch was but one of many. Revenas had witnessed, and even caused, some being used up and thrown like a broken toy then what made it different now? Nothing. He only cared for what this brought for Dalmasca and himself, and worked to obtain greatest advantage.

Reve reclined on the upholstery back of his chair. This drained his energy. He had to give Folge the answer, aye or nay, quick. While the first might bring large benefits, it secured Basch's death.

* * *

Vaan hastily left the Home. He was hurtling through dark alleys, up the stairs. Afternoon sun struck hot on his face. He ran on the cobbled streets, back to Penelo's house, there he realized he did not know where Larsa was. He went out with his betrothed. That was all he knew. Where? Where could Larsa have gone? His mind dashed through possibilities, yet came to none. Larsa could be in so many places, but Basch was in one place. He was in the Castle with Ashe. The sky pirate would start from there.

The last time he walked so close the Royal Castle was three years ago. It was a month after the Sky battle. Ashe invited him and Penelo for an intimate dinner, then offered him an airship of his desire as a gift, but he refused. She sent more invitations later on, and he declined them all until they came no longer.

Now Vaan regretted. The gate guards could not (obviously) recognized him, neither had he any proof or whatsoever indicating he was an acquaintance of the Judge or the Queen. And to think his actions hurt her also. It doubled his remorse.

When he was about to give up, a soldier stepped out, whispered something to the guards and he was allowed to go inside. Vaan followed the soldier through foyers and halls. His impatient feet stomped on mosaic tiles and a familiar hawk signet. Having clashed with a massive brass door, Vaan was walking on the inner curtain walls. Below there was the court yard's great fountain. It was a sterling pendant inlaid with sapphires water and bordered with emerald grass. It was the first time Vaan saw it in day light.

From a far, Ashe was waiting for him on a curve embracing a keep tower. She looked down from here and noticed a well-known figure talking to the gate guards. Trying her luck, she asked a soldier to fetch him and it was really Vaan. If it were three years ago, her heart would be jumping with joy to watch him treading on the gray stone. Unfortunately, he did not three years ago, and now was three years later.

"I don't expect—"

"Ashe!" he cut in her whispering words with worried voice. "Have you heard anything?"

While Ashe was still staggered, he continued, "stuffs about Basch."

"Wait a second," she whispered, then signified the soldiers and servants to leave. "Now what did you hear?"

With his typical childlike enthusiasm, Vaan related the rumor to her. Ashe was at all ears, listening, sometimes secretly smiling. "Hey, I'm serious," he grunted, noticing her curved lips.

"I know, but," she chuckled softly. Ashe did not think that she could see the sky pirate worried for her after hearing that he set for adventures in Ordalia.

"You knew it?"

"No," she shook her head. All Ashe information now was from Basch and Larsa. Larsa was out for date, and Basch was busy with affairs of the Empire. She had not met them today. "Listen, Vaan. They might say what they will, but they had no proof."

The rumor itself was saying that there was no proof. Were there be, Larsa and Gabranth should have been made to answer it. Gabranth's corpse was left in Bahamut and disinterred as a nameless soldier. Basch had been living his brother's life for three years; he forged himself an impeccable guise. The only loose end was witnesses – themselves.

"Never you, Balthier, and the others betray us. I have the trust with me."

Vaan nodded. He would not ever, and he knew Balthier also.

"Penelo invited me for dinner," she added, "Basch and Larsa will there also. We shall meet them then."

"I guess you're right," Vaan agreed. "Let's get back," he said inadvertently.

Ashe winced and crossed her arms, "why are you always acting as if you'd die if you waited?"

When he did not notice, rays of sunset light blushed her cheek. Her hair turned pink pastel; her lips full red.

"Well," Vaan scraped his nose and turned away, "saying from someone who almost robbed an airship to seek for her lineage proof."

"I was borrowing it," denied Ashe. Her lacy skirt flitted in soft breeze. Vaan secretly glanced at her. She was walking after him. Having walked on a few steps, he glanced back again. She was still behind him. "Didn't you say go?" she said to his surprise, overtaking him, "let us go."

Vaan followed her out of the Castle then walked her to his home. Her red slippers slid on orange paved street. Street lights reflected in her gray eyes. Sun was setting. They lit the lamp early. It was so strange.

The way felt so short. Soon his house, or Penelo's house to be exact, arose gradually from a far with its signature floral painted door.

"So, 'tis where you and Penelo live," said Ashe.

This was first time she visited their dwelling. It was a two-story white house. The balcony with curve arch looked down at the street. Peeling lines of color paint ran along tarnished stone bricks telling the tale of a happy little family in a nice, cozy home.

Vaan nodded, scrapping his head. If he knew that Ashe would come, he would clean the house a bit, maybe. Now he recalled that it had been a while (or years) since they last washed the walls.

"Hey, I'm home," said Vaan, opening the door.

Inside was stillness. Larsa was sitting comfortably at the dining table. A man in black shirt, presumably his sentinel, stood with his arms crossed next to the wall, steps from his lord's back. He glared Vaan viscously since the moment he stepped into the house. The frequently empty mahogany surface was filled with goods. Half of the table was cookware, one fourth cakes, biscuits and teas, the rest shared by books and some boxes.

"What's all this mess?" Vaan asked out loud.

"Larsa's about to die, so he's distributing alms to ease his karma," replied Razzia.

"You pray me die," grunted Larsa, leaning towards his betrothed.

"By night and by day," she sneered. He made no reply.

Penelo ran out of the kitchen, putting a stack of bowls into a canvas bag. "Gosh, there's still plenty," she flustered.

"Allow me to lend you my help," offered the strange Judge with Larsa after quite a period of silence.

"Thank you, Hausen-san." Then they had gone into the kitchen, holding a stack of bowls, pots with few spoons sticking out. Looked like they started a kitchen revolution.

Vaan pulled a chair for the Queen. Larsa greeted her presence with a beam then to the sky pirate, he said, "this is for you." And with the manner of a blesser, he took a box on the table and handed to him. The box was big enough to hold with both hands.

Vaan opened it. Nesting neatly inside was a pair of silver gauntlets. "What for?" He asked.

"Oh," Larsa was surprised by the question, "'tis a gift. Take it as my gratitude for looking after my betrothed and myself."

"Magic words, Vaan!" Penelo scolded, rushing in and out her realm. She smiled at Ashe, "please wait a minute."

Vaan looked at the table again. He guessed all was Larsa's gifts and wondered what sort of date they had. Penelo had cleaned a lot of stuffs. Larsa was helping Kytes with the books. The latter halted briefly to admire Ashe. She dressed like a full bloom cactus flower. His face turned red as Ashe looked back at him, and he sprinted into the study room.

"Say, Larsa, do you have the same reaction when you first met the Queen?" Razzia said. The table was cleaned. They were helping Penelo setting the table.

"Why did you ask?" he replied, placed embroidery napkins on the lefts of plates.

"Out of curiosity." She paused then added, "shall I compare her majesty to a summer's day?"

"Wherefore is Gabranth belated today?"

"And wherefore are you avoiding?"

They heard door knocks. "Oh, it must be him," cried Larsa, seizing the chance.

Vaan opened the door, and Basch entered the house. Contrast to the lively atmosphere, his face was gray and grim. He dashed to Larsa's side soundlessly. "Your Excellency," he whispered and gave Larsa a letter, "from Lord Counsellor."

The Emperor opened it hastily, and read in silence. Larsa crumpled up the letter immediately once he finished it, then crushed it on the table.

"What's it, Excellency?" Basch asked nervously. The other Judge was glaring at him.

"Counsellor Deciputh, with approval of Assembly of Law and Justice, bade for my return. The cortège will arrive in eventide." Which was to say now.

"Why with such haste?" Ashe observed, shaking her head gently.

"They wished to hear my words on... some issues," he replied, standing up. Razzia was looking at him from the opposite seat, covering her neck with the hand. "I'm sorry. I have to go," he said, smiling at her.

"I'll go with you, my lord," said Basch, walking after him.

"No, Gabranth. You stay here," Larsa ordered, "I need you to uphold the peace of Dalmasca."

"Hausen," he called out, startling the man, "come with me."

Quick was their departure. When Penelo stepped out the kitchen with a big pot of marseille, an Archadian soup but made with local fishes and herbs, the greatest invention of her and Hausen's cooking, they had already gone into night, leaving the rest with confusion.

Razzia was still staring at the door, and she kept staring and staring and staring for a shadow that had gone far away, too far and high.


	27. III-1 Betrayers

**PART III - Third Letter of the Present**

_After three years of pulling cut strings, Deciputh Gredior, the Imperial Most Honorable Counsellor, finally made his move. An urgent request of the Emperor's return soon was bidden. The devoted Emperor, bound by law, set forth for Archades in the night to attend to significant issues as stated in his letter._

_Now, due to the rumor about impostor Judge Magister, we all had a deduction of the particular issue that needed his Excellency's jurisdiction and justification. This, in tandem with the prior words about Archadia-Dalmasca dearest amity, made the best brew for an upheaval. _

_The upheaval that I feared was hanged o'er the gallows. _

_Fourth part in the twelfth account of Rareza Memoria_

* * *

**1\. BETRAYERS**

Penelo was sitting alone at her dressing table, holding the box with filigree wings. Larsa gave it to her for good fortune. She still could not believe what had happened the day after yesterday, but she knew it was serious or else Basch would not make so grim a face.

She stowed the box away in a drawer. Even though it had been morning already, she did not want to go out. She did not want to go out with all the words, guesses and rumors about Basch's identity and the Queen and the Emperor's 'liaison'.

"Oh," Penelo sighed and lay on the table.

"Penelo-san?" Razzia cracked the portiere and called her. The lady stepped inside. "Soft," she exclaimed as Penelo slowly lifted her face up, "I think you need an eye drop."

Penelo looked herself in the mirror. Her own reflection almost scared her. "Gosh," she touched the thin bag under her red eyes. It had just been two days of sleep deprivation. She looked at Razzia with admiration. The dancer had seen Razzia woke up late last night, staring at the door where he left, still the Lady looked not so bad as Penelo, even she was a bit pale.

"Well, let it for later. A nice breakfast before all," Razzia declared and dragged her out of the room.

"I-I haven't made the breakfast yet," Penelo stammered. What time it was already, she was wondering with worry.

The Lady waved her hand and laughed, "Be troubled not. It's been prepared for you."

"I cannot cook, but our breakfast can be bought," she explained as she walked Penelo out of the room.

The table was complete. Kytes, Vaan and Migelo gathered at the dining table outside. Sitting before each of them was a dish of seafood rice; two at the empty seats waiting for them. Penelo's gaze grazed past a fat lunch box that looked just like his gift while Razzia eased her onto the chair opposite to Vaan's. Then she casually seated herself next and poured herself a cup of breakfast tea.

"Ah, paella rice," the Lady said after sniffing her tea, "it's been a while. I miss your taste."

"Hey, where did you buy it?" Vaan asked. He, too, missed the dish, but could not find in anywhere in Dalmasca. The desert kingdom, after all, bordered no sea.

"Actually, 'tis Larsa's. Ask him the next time you met him."

It appeared that he planned to stay longer. Penelo touched the soft fabric of the embroidery napkin. "Hey, Vaan, you've been lending the Queen a hand in Westersand matter, have you?" Penelo asked, forgetting the presence of Migelo for a moment.

Vaan was startled at first then slowly nodded. He was so sure about his success in stowing the information away from his partner.

"Did she receive any news about Larsa-sama?"

"Well," he hesitated, swiping his nose, "no. But Basch is dealing with the rumor. I'll tell ya if he got something new. So don't worry."

Penelo waved her head absently. Yeah, she told herself, nothing to worry. Her mind should be with dancing. Still her gut was telling her something different. Her effort would become futile if something happened to Larsa.

"Now, have a rest. You're tired," Razzia said to her then to Vaan, she added, "that says you ought to act more mature and cook your own meal."

"Huh?" Vaan raised his brows, "why not you?" If Penelo did not cook, he would buy his dinner; just like how he had been when they went adventures. Vaan had gils in his pocket enough for some days.

"I'd be pleased to present you more tortoise soup, if you insist. But my hands are full."

"Don't worry. I'll be fine," Penelo smiled. She was glad for the consideration.

"Taking a break for one or two days isn't bad idea," suggested Kytes while Vaan was curious what sort of business Razzia was getting her hand into. She was a lady of leisure, just like her cousin Al-Cid, in his eyes.

"Where are you going?" Vaan asked, "y'know, Ashe might have something to ask you."

The Lady rested her spoon on rim of the dish, looked up Vaan with confusion. "What is it that her Majesty might ask of me?"

"Something about the Mist and stuffs."

"Very well," she grunted, "I'll be back at evening. I, too, have something to ask her."

Thus she booked an appointment at home. Vaan would relate it to Ashe. They were meeting at the West Gate today. Penelo, unfortunately, had a practice session, but she felt safe if the Queen was with Vaan.

"You assure?" said Razzia in high, astonished voice, "I'd be scared out of my wit if I were you."

Penelo twisted her braid. "So, where are you—"

"Larsa has you as his eyes around me?" Razzia interjected, wincing, "I'll be at the Home. Oh, right. We're holding a meeting about Black Magick this afternoon. You're welcomed to join if you're interested."

"I'll come once I'm done with my session," replied Penelo gladly. Maybe she needed a change of wind.

Thus she booked another appointment at the Home. After all, Razzia did not really have much on her hands as she expected. Gabranth was gathering information on the real scheme behind all words and rumors as well as keeping an eye on his Lord's safety, and she knew that no word would reach her till all was well. Razzia must help herself if she wanted to get her hand on the status quo.

* * *

Dubiety was disseminated like a handful of seeds scattered along the wind, and now it was rooting and growing into trees. The rumors did not even a little become subdued after his Excellency's department. Someone must be manipulating it from behind the curtains. And Basch had no doubt who that was.

"His Excellency should be fine with that. Lord Attacenn's sword will never stray. Even if Amytis might stray, he still has the support of Carsas," said Magister Lukio calmly. Therefore he stayed, carrying on his job of gauging the experiments in Westersand.

"Lord Larsa ordered me to uphold the peace in Dalmasca," replied the 'Judge'.

The Magister nodded. "I shall watch over the Guild of mages."

Disputes between magick practitioners of the two nations had been exacerbating lately. He had to ensure that they turned no skirmish nor any mages turned into Archadian dissents.

Basch nodded in reply and looked down at the emerald, distorted reflection on his silver plate. They were having lunch together in the greenhouse. Their Lord loved to eat here with them and the boy-mage. But it was only two of the old men here today. The Magister leisurely lifted his sterling fork. He seemed not a trifle uneasy about his true identity.

"Her Majesty the Queen is intrigued by who behind the Westersand," said the Magister out of blue, "her concern ought to lie within the boundaries of her kingdom."

Basch sensed a peculiar surge of urgency as if the mage was telling him to ask the Queen to stay out of troubles. "Her Lady has every right to do whatever she wills," he replied with a glare.

"Yes indeed. Just a friendly reminder," the elder mage justified, raising his brows quickly.

They resumed the lunch. Crispy crack of a yellow tomato leaf touched the ground. Forks and knives clinked clanked in interminable beats. Basch put his knife down on the umber table. He could never get used to the table manners. He was about to excuse himself when a soldier opened the door, bowed then with long strode he dashed to the Magister, and whispered to his ear.

"Was it under his Excellency's order?" asked the Magister.

"It's still unknown."

The great mage bade his leave. Before the door was closed completely, Basch could not stop himself from asking, "what's the matter?"

"Judge Magister Alessain departed from Amytis."

"Could it be... for Archades?"

A gentle nod was his answer.

Carcas had not yet to move, and Amytis had already left.

* * *

Penelo was breezing through the wooden floor on her toe, swirling her veils. The reflection on her hair clips gleamed as she whirled, creating an illusion of glow in the gloomy room. A change of wind did work. Penelo felt much better after dancing for the children at the Home. Bringing the joy by dances, it was her dream.

Walking closely behind her was Razzia, clapping softly. "It'd be splendid if you might spare your precious time to teach some of the children the art of Dalmascan traditional dance," said the Lady.

Penelo smiled and nodded. "Then you can tell me when another session of magick class is available," she replied. The meeting was great. Penelo learnt a few new tricks and tips. She wished Vaan could be here too.

"Let me, let me."

"No, let me."

They heard soft steps, and cheerful whispers from the hall outside. Razzia poked her head out. Three little girls were gathering in front of the room. She tiptoed out of the room, approaching them from their backs.

"What do Mighty Magus Sisters have to say?" she asked, trying to surprise the girls.

"Yikes!" The three girls jumped away from Razzia, who was bending her back towards them and smiling.

After a second of regaining the spirit, all three said at the same time, "we found Lige! He's sitting at the back garden."

"Wow, that's fast! Thank you," she praised.

"Tee hee," they laughed, making the poses of flying cockatrices, "whenever you need help."

"Seek for Mighty Magus Sisters," Razzia chimed in. "Now, I have to talk to Lige," she excused herself, "see you later."

Then she dashed to the back of the Home. Penelo was running after her. She did not know what it was, but something told her it was important. The back garden was the only place in the Home granted with the presence of natural lights. Deik utilized it to plant some vegetables and set a stone table. Lige would sit at the table and look up the confined sky whenever he had something to think.

"Lige," Razzia called out, stepping down the terrace and approaching him. The page turned to look at her, surprised. She sat down opposite to him. "I have something need your help," she continued, tucking a stray lock of hair behind the ear. There was a tinge of hesitancy in her soft voice. She did not mind tying her hair. Pinkish light painted her pale cheeks.

"I have something need your help, too," replied Lige. Razzia nodded, telling him to say first tacitly. The page glanced at Penelo, who was sitting by the terrace and gazing at them. "My Master wanted my opinion on a matter," he resumed in whispers, "that might involve your betrothed."

The hearsay had been condoned for too long. Now it corroded the Dalmasca-Archadia relationship. Repudiate or embrace the two nation amity, they needed decide. Quick. Therefore his Master was asked, was offered to eradicate it once for all.

"Dalmasca cannot abandon him at this moment," cried Penelo.

"That," Razzia closed her eyes, "is an appropriate move."

The circumstance was in favor of Larsa no longer. No one could know if the next emperor would spare them any of sovereignty, and Rozarria's intent to wage a war was next to the walls of Rabanastre.

"But," she added, "that if only the crown of Archadia changes. For that matter, your Master might want to see me before coming to a decision. Thus if you may relate him."

Lige accepted her offer. He would retell his Master.

"Thank you, Lige," she whispered.

"Now, lifted your worry, didn't I?" he answered with relief.

Razzia scraped her hair awkwardly, and excused herself, "well, I think it's time for me to back."

The next thing was Razzia running as a ghost was chasing her out of the Home. Her shoulder-length hair flew along the breeze as they both walked back home. Under last day lights, it became a reddish brown color. She raised her hand to reach for the wind, wishing that she, too, could fly the wind to Archadia and see what was happening there.

Penelo was worried at first, but now she felt secured. She asked Razzia what she would like for dinner, and they went to the bazaar together before getting back home. Ashe and Vaan were waiting for their return.

"Oh," Razzia cried as she saw Vaan and the Queen was sitting at the dining table, longing for her with a long neck. Well, she did say 'evening' and evening meant from sunset to bedtime. Razzia glanced out the window. The sky was black without stars. The stroll in bazaar took them longer than her expected.

"Well," she sat down opposite to Ashe while Penelo dashed into the kitchen for the dinner. Today they would a quick bite of corned werewolf sandwiches and salads. It only needed a little arrangement.

"Let us go into the matter at once," the Queen said immediately, shoving a charred paper at her, "are you by chance acquainted with this symbol?"

Razzia looked at the half-burnt red stamp of a garuda with twelve roses. The coat of arms of Noble House Ejersi. "So this is what you have to ask me?" Razzia replied, frowning.

"Even without your words of aid, we'll soon find out," Ashe said coldly, crossing her arms. She just intended to verify Razzia's involvement in the incident, and it appeared that she had the answer with her disobedience.

"Just say, Razzia. You have nothing to hide, right?" Vaan insisted. Ashe could never understand how he could trust her only after a month of acquaintance.

"'Tis the crest of an acquaintance of mine. However, I do suppose there's something else that should be on top of your priority."

"Your point?" the Queen frowned at her.

Razzia sighed. "Should Larsa descend, you're to go down with him."

"What're you indicating? I'm not his paramour as in the propaganda," Ashe said angrily.

Razzia smirked and looked away in dismay. Not his paramour and she was wearing the Summer Rose hair clip. An elegant lacy, pink-gold rose mounted on a tourmaline-set leaf clip, one piece of Archadian jeweler Carter Cie Picardy's Four seasons of Love collection. And she knew someone who was an avid collector of the mentioned jeweler.

"This upheaval, should it occur, will shake your reign to its foundation," Razzia maintained her view.

"Larsa will be fine by himself, and Dalmasca is a free kingdom."

"Free indeed," Razzia nodded mockingly, "free to lean whichever way the wind is blowing."

"How dare you," Ashe rose up and slammed on the table. Penelo twitched, almost dropped her tray of sandwiches and tea.

"How I dare not," Razzia countered, "are you ignorantly or deliberately overlooking it?"

"I can tolerate your disgrace no longer," the Queen pronounced and stomped off to the door, taking her leave. "Hey, Ashe," Vaan ran after her. He had better walk her back the Castle as Ashe came with no escort.

The door closed with a bang behind them. It was so loud that even Migelo, who was upstairs, had to poke his head down to see what was going on. Razzia, too, wanted to smack, or turnover even, the table. But the thought dispersed as she saw Penelo's scared face.

"Ha ha," she laughed awkwardly.

* * *

"Ashe!"

She halted at last. Her hair shifted to ash mauve under moonlight; the flower clip gleamed. She slumped down by the fountain, having almost forgotten all manners.

"Well, isn't it time to go home?" said Vaan.

"Do you, too, think the same of me?" Ashe asked in whispers, pulling her veil up to cover her bare shoulder, "that I'm abandoning Larsa."

"No," he replied, swiping his nose, "c'mon, it isn't important how the others think about you."

"I knew you'd say that," she sighed. "She must think that I'm ever in Larsa's favor. But I'm doing by own way."

Vaan sat by her side. He imagined ruling a whole country must be hard, but never thought it could drain so much energy out of her. She was not the least of the strong-willed Ashe that he knew.

"Larsa... they just do what best for Ivalice," she added. In their eyes, she was not Ashe, but Princess Ashe, and now Queen Ashe. "Oh, I can't believe that you're listening to me rambling. I'm... not allowed to display weakness."

"Who said that? That's why you need good friends," Vaan said in high voice, thumping his chest.

Ashe beamed, slightly nodding. "How long will you stay?" she asked inadvertently.

"Long," he announced, "just tell me if you need help."

"Now, Mr. Sky Pirate, could you bring me home?" she chuckled softly.

"Of course," he cried, standing up and stretching his hand out for her to take.

Then he walked her back the castle under half-moon lights.

* * *

Penelo glanced again at the window. The moon was high.

"Why is he so late?" she murmured. It should not take so long to see the Queen home. They could not wait and already finished the dinner, then cleared the table and moved to dessert yet he had not been back.

"I think he's having a nice bit of crumpet in her Majesty's bedchamber," said Razzia. Penelo stared at her in moon-eyed gaze, wondering why they were eating in bedroom. Razzia sighed as Migelo, too, was blinking at her.

_Knock-knock, knock-knock_. There were quick, short taps on the door.

"Who could be at this time?" Penelo pondered as Kytes ran for the door, and was surprised the see the blond boy walking behind Kytes to their table.

"Lige," Razzia stood up, pulling a chair for him.

"I'm sorry, Razj," the page said, shaking his head without bothering to sit down, "but my Master will not meet you in the morrow."

He did not want to let her down, but it was better now than tomorrow.

"So he decided," she whispered, lowering her empty gaze. Her hand covered the neck; her finger involuntarily scratched.

He decided to turn his back to Larsa. And the Queen must have given them her approval or had not the least knowledge of what was going beneath her country. If Dalmasca was to turn her back to him... good, now they exposed him as an incompetent monarch.

"He has yet to pronounce his resolution, has he?"

"You don't say..."

"I just need a minute," she interjected. "Please, Lige," she pled, holding his hands before he could turn away.

"Well," he bit his lower lip, "the morrow afternoon..."

* * *

**Another little note:**

This note should be put in the previous chapter, but I forgot (=.=) Due to some issues in life, I've been rather busy recently, and this trend might continue for a long time, so I will be slow in posting the next chapters. Maybe it's good time to hear what you are thinking about this story.

Thank you for reading my story, I'm looking forward to hearing how you enjoy it.


	28. III-2 Confront

** 2\. CONFRONT**

Ariego was sitting alone in his office in Rojahisari, the fortress guarding the borders of Andorra and Catalya, his fatherland. His face rested on his palm; his eyes on the chart of West Orladia and Galtean peninsula. He never expected it to end in such indifferent way. Larsa had returned Archades. How colorless it would be to hear him hanged for treason, the young commander was imagining.

But delight was that Razzia would soon return to him. His beloved Razzia. Too fair to wither in the incapable emperor's arm. Ariego moved a red checker piece, representing his troops, towards Rabanastre then played with it, enjoying the real and material feeling of gripping and controlling something. He could dispatch the troops whenever he willed; he could lay his life at her single word. However, Razzia and her Lord Father appeared to have another plan.

Ariego should have foreseen it when she informed him about her engagement. She, too wise to be lost in the wicked emperor's words, had accepted his proposal with purpose.

_What surprise do you hold for me this time?_

Razzia always loved her secrets. He stared again at the red and black checker pieces scattering on the map.

"Hm... Kaire, may you know their intention?" he asked no one.

A voice, wrapped in many layers of voices, answered him, "That is... best to see for yourself."

"Yea. Merely curious."

"Oh, I forgot," he added, "you Ocurria never curious be. You read it all from the history weaves."

The dark shadow behind Ariego blurred, gleamed in golden Mist, and a figure showed itself. A small black face on a long neck with a pair of slate-gray scale wings sprouted out of his broad shoulder. This was Kaire. His glowed eyes secretly shifted his view to Ariego. He was never good at clandestine behaviors, but the man paid him no heed. Kaire was wondering why he could hardly get his attention or surprise expect for the first time they met.

Occuria, the Undying, had heard and seen more than any creatures existing in Ivalice. Still there was one thing they oft read wrong. The heart, he believed, with love and hate and complicated emotions stowed and hid in its deep corners. And Razzia's heart was a splendor to read.

* * *

...he's to state his mind in a secret conference in the morrow... in Beneath Amisnestié theatre.

It was their only chance to change his mind.

To Penelo's own surprise, Razzia pled for her help right after the breakfast.

"I cannot dress as such to see the chancellor," she said with her hand on her chest, "it fit my station not."

It was nice and comfortable clothes. Razzia loved them more than what she was about to be wearing. But if she was to emerge as a Lady of Margrace... well Larsa's betrothed should not dress in man's clothes, should she? In short, it was not good for her appearance and negotiation.

"Sure, just take what you need from my closet," Penelo agreed immediately.

"Oh," Razzia did not mean offense, but the dancer's wardrobe was not appropriate either, "I brought me a gown when I came to Rabanastre."

It was well concealed in her room in Nico's house. She did not want to disrupt him, considering his relationship with Revenas. But this could be easily fixed. Razzia took a watch from her pocket. It was carved with the famous Archadian sky warship, the Eden. One hour later, Nico would leave for the theater, and she had a spare key.

"There're some tiny details that need your help," she explained.

Penelo nodded, staring at her with burning eyes. "Just tell me what you need!" her friend said eagerly, almost shouted, leaning forwards her.

Razzia jumped back. "Fine," she gasped. What an unexpected zeal.

Although the Lady disliked it, still she needed someone to dress her and her hair also and if possible a little cosmetics. Her face was pale. He might think that they were under a chill wind.

But first, they proceeded as planned and retrieved her gown first. It was an easy task. Soon Razzia took Penelo into the house, breezed into her room, heaved her suitcase from under the bed, opened it and gladly check her gown. It was wrapped in paper and tied with dark ribbon, still untouched and intact. Razzia briefly looked into the content. It consisted a black dress, a striped overgown, a lace-collared shirt, a mantilla veil and a pearl necklace and a sterling peineta comb and hairpins in a satin pouch. Except for an annoying farthingale and a pair of chunky shoes and a few pieces of optional rings and bracelets that were left behind, all was just what she would dress to present in court or the Verano Palace. The Lady nodded in satisfaction.

The next thing was to put them on. It would be better if she could have one or two hands more to dress her. Thus Penelo suggested that they went to the theater. Miss Asma possessed a private dressing room there, and she could ask Shaya to lend them a hand.

"That's excellent idea," Razzia agreed.

"So let's go," declared the dancer. With profound excitement, she grabbed Razzia's wrist in one hand and held her precious cosmetics box, which she kept for special occasions and performances, in the other. Off they ran to the theatre of friendship.

Razzia could not understand Penelo's effusiveness and enthusiasm as she begged for her mentor's approval to use her dressing room and pled for her fellow dancer to help. At their hesitated nods, her friend beamed jollily like a child. However, Razzia quickly threw this aside, moved on, and opened the bag and pulled her gowns out.

"Wow, wow," Penelo and Shaya gasped at each revelation of taffeta, figured silk and delicate lace.

Starting with the shirt, it was simplest part, just button it high up her neck and it had done. The pointed needlelace was pleasing to the eyes, but not to the neck; if only it did not tickle her neck so itchily.

Next was the grenada flowers silk-figured gown. It was fastened with ribbon in the front, but the waist was tighten with lace from behind, not to mention the golden-embroidery cuffs needed to be tied up so that it fitted her wrists. So fortunate that she forsook the farthingale, or else they had had a step in between.

The last piece of gown was the taffeta overgown which as its name indicating was put on over all. Razzia asked Shaya moved to her hair while Penelo was fastening the microscopic buttons, one by one on the behind of the wide, slitted sleeves, carefully not to wrinkle the lacy cuffs.

"Oh," the Lady cried, "I should have had my head shaved and brought a wig along with me."

"Why? Your hair is so beautiful," Shaya exclaimed.

"Well, but 'tis so troubling."

It used to be much longer, nearly to her knee. But Razzia decided that it needed a trim before setting forth for Rabanastre. How regretted she was for having showed mercy to her hair. Now, having been gelled, it was just long enough to be plaited and fixed in place with difficulty.

Ting-ting. The pocket watch on the table rang like a struck glass bell. Razzia quickly clicked it open.

"Sacred Sangrada! 'Tis time," she exclaimed. She headed up and looked her half-finished coiffure. It is said that every negotiation started with a proper appearance, and this was especially right for women. "Penelo-san, please go and stop him. You know where they're to hold the meeting, don't you?"

"Yes, but what should I—"

"Aught. You just hold him back a short while. I shall come at once."

While the dancer was puzzled, unable to decide what to do, the Lady urged: "Go!"

And hastily, Penelo followed her words, rushing out the room to the wide halls. Turned left, then right, then left again, running with an empty head. Soon she found herself blended into the darkness of Beneath the Theatre. It should be near where the satire was held. _Look at the left of the stage, there's should be a narrow alley,_ she recalled Razzia's instruction.

She was lucky. A small gatherings of five men was walking at where was once the auditorium. The boy they met last night was among them, Lord Revenas must be with them.

"You're to join with Master Folge, m'lord?" said bangaa dressed in soldier armor; his arms swung back and forth as if he tried to grab the air. Penelo was getting nervous just by looking at him.

The white-haired, who was supposed to be the Lord, halted to hear what he had to say. Hair of wandering clouds, skin of burnt sand. With precise movement, his eyes gradually unveiled the sky of a clearest day. His face was pleasing to look as a typical beautiful day of Galtean peninsula.

"And?" Lige asked on behalf of his Master.

"Vurmas is a mouthpiece, but Captain... and if he chooses to trust the Emperor..."

"I see why his belief moved you," he replied in a rich, sonorous, resonant voice, "but trust could be tricked to misplace, and he's a cunning king. Nine years ago, right after his mother passed away, the senate took the child under their wing. Yet raising a wolf in a pack of sheep won't make him a lamp, and you saw the reward of their deeds."

The bangaa said no more word. Having finished with him, the former Chancellor moved on alone.

_Gosh, I can't let him go,_ Penelo told to herself. In the desperation, she winged out of the hiding place. "No, it's not true. He's a kind-hearted, devoted man. All he did is for the peace of Ivalice," she shouted.

"Well, how do you know?" the bangaa captain asked after a brief moment of astonishment.

"I, well, I just know it." It was not a convincing answer, but her seem-naive, sincere face, her Dalmascan appearance (in fact she was a Dalmascan by born) and traditional dancer attire did a good effect on the soldiers.

"I recognized you," said Reve gently.

"Eh?" Penelo cried with big eyes. She was so sure that it was their first met. Her eyes secretly drifted down to his abs. He was wearing a slit-sleeved, wide-collared vest that showed his abs nicely.

"You were with him in the skycity three years ago."

"Y-Yeah." She was. That was how she met Larsa, but Penelo could not forget having met such a special (and handsome) man.

"Then allow me to ask how 'acquainted' you're to him," he said politely, looking straight at Penelo with a deep gaze that rendered her speechless.

"W-Well, I..."

"Have you fornicated with him?"

"What? I don't..." she flushed. Her eyes lowered and shifted back and forth. The surrounding men's gaze was raking her, she could tell it. Her throat felt choked, her eyes wet.

"Appear that you don't understand him as you believe," he mocked her with a calm, emotionless voice.

"Now, she's uninvolved," said a familiar voice from her behind. It was Basch.

"She led herself to the slaughterhouse by her own," Reve replied, and he was not in the mood to laugh with his detractors. Then he signaled the soldiers to retire. They were left for a private talk. "I've disposed of belief that you'd come."

"I'm sorry. Your bid for my return I cannot heed, but I came with a proposal of my own."

"Then now's my turn to decline," Revenas replied, turning to leave without having bothered to hear what Basch had to say.

"My Lord, you do discern Archadia is our best ally," Basch said after him, "and Lord Larsa is a man worth of our trust."

"Crown do stray, Basch," Revenas shook his head. His heart was so distant from his old friend's. He had been wasting many of his breaths lately. Let us have a last friendly deed. "He ordered you to stay. A granted escape."

"I won't leave him. I swore to protect his Excellency."

"Still walk the knightly path despite the title of kingslayer that it rewarded," he said, looking straight at Basch; his arms crossed, wondering how many oaths were weighing on his friend's shoulder.

"So are you, my lord, I believe. You hope for a better future of Dalmasca. And Lord Larsa is our only hope."

Revenas glanced at Lige, who was looking at Penelo with compassion. "Gone," he replied. Obviously, he felt necessary to maintain a friendly relationship, but not too 'close', with the Empire, and Larsa was a good ally. Unfortunately, his sudden leave exposed the crumbling ground beneath his throne.

"My apology for the contumelious words," he turned to Penelo, offering her a handkerchief, which she reluctantly received. When the dancer appeared out of nowhere, Reve was so sure that she was both a propagandist and his lover. But it was not. "I was trying to discredit you. A friendly word, 'tis unwise to meddle with political toys," he explained, advised and walked away. The page bowed slightly and followed him.

Basch was searching for strong words that guaranteed his Lord's safety, but no. He knew there was naught. Lord Larsa had to fight and chose thus, by his own, and there was naught he could do. The 'Judge' stunned, standing still. Penelo was waving her head in wordless melodies. They had to watch him leaving in powerlessness.

"Then mayhap a word from me can show you new hope," said a high, confident voice from their behind.

"Razzia-sama," Penelo cried in delight. She had come in time.

Reve glanced at his page. Resting his forehead on his index finger, now he realized how Miss Dancer knew his whereabout. What a day, and he had one more conference to attend. "I believed my page delivered you my humble reply to you, Lady Margrace," he said after giving her a slight Dalmascan bow.

With grace, the Lady lifted her long skirt gently and curtsied. The flower figures on her skirt gleamed and faded as she changed her gesture. Her lips slowly curved into a smile while she was praying in her head that the cosmetic would do well in hiding her pale face. "I believe 'tis best for us both that you'd hear my offer before all," she said leisurely, deliberately covering her gasps.

"What is it the Lady of Victorious might want of me?" he asked in deep voice.

"Let me tell you what you might want of me first," she replied in soft whispers, "a word, a promise of reinstating your station of Chancellor."

"Unfortunately, your words convince Dalmascan Court of nothing."

"But they convince our Lord Chancellor otherwise."

With straight gaze into his eyes, she added, "Larsa will not fall. And what you do shall put Dalmasca on frontline of war."

"Quoth she who played the Emperor of Tortoise."

"Also quoth she, the Procurator of Faith and Peace and his Imperial Excellency's betrothed."

"A last word of curiosity if I may," he said politely again. Razzia gave a nod of approval. "Such a wise lady as you're, that he saw you as one piece in his game, you must have acknowledged. Wherefore?"

"Such a wise man as you're, that your due gratitude she ne'er grant, you, too, must have acknowledged. 'Tis wherefore."

Revenas nodded and smiled. It was a gentle, light curve like a faint ray of light after rain. "Then you have my words," he said at last.

"And you have mine," she nodded in reply.

They exchanged a last bow and he walked on. Lige had to resist his desire to admire Razzia in a lady dress to follow him. The Lady secretly gave him an informal wave. And they had it.

"Phew," Razzia sighed in relief, scratching under her chin where the ruffled collar tickled whenever she bowed or nodded.

"Splendid, my lady," Basch said. He was impressed; Penelo, too, was cheering in a soundless little dance. "How did you get her Majesty's agreement in his reinstating?"

"Actually," she tilted her upper body side and side like a snake slithering, "'tis your job."

"Be troubled not, even if you cannot, Larsa will complete the exercise," she grinned and added in their shock. "What you should concern yourself now is his safety."

"Forgive me, your Grace," he bowed lowly, "for putting your intent in shadow of doubt."

"No, Gabranth, my doubt in him, you were right to suspect. But, I pray no ill-wish befell Larsa. I wager his fortunes on your capable eyes and hands."

"Then it's not my right to fail you."

He bowed, she bowed in reply, and Basch left. _O Sangrada_, Razzia told to herself, _what a lengthy exchange of pleasantries. I'm behaving more and more like the Pleasantoise. _

She shook her head. What she should concern herself now was taking this grandiloquent gown as soon as it required. The only good thing of the ground-length skirt was that she did not have to change shoes, thus they made their way back the dressing room with alacrity.

Razzia could not hide her please, sliding over the wooden floor of the dark hall. She took off the lacy veil from her head, revealing the glittering, silver comb fixed on upper her braid bun. The elaborate golden embroidery on the veil gleamed in dancing waves. She controlled it with great comfort as if it was an extension of her own arm.

"Oh," she stopped, noticing Penelo was gazing her, "Interested?"

"Yeah," the dancer replied awkwardly, "what graceful movements!" She, too, used veil in her dance, but it was so different. Her veil was just a mere prop to create a mysterious atmosphere for the real performance—belly dance.

"They teach it in Sangrada Luz. You may come if interested."

"Sangrada Luz?" Penelo repeated.

"It's a discreet temple close to Ambervale. I thought you and Mr. Vaan did make quite fame in Orladia."

Ambervale was the capital of Rozzaria, vast empire spanning the continent of Orladia, and Sangrada Luz was the most famous temple of Sangrada, though Razzia must admit that the teaching of Sangrada was not near popular as it once was a thousand years ago.

"Now you recall me we never visit Amvervale," replied Penelo, her gaze rolled up.

"Why? You toured around Orladia but never visit the Gold City."

Why? Penelo did not know. She just followed Vaan, and Vaan just chose not to come to Ambervale.

"Penelo-san," she hesitated, "you enjoyed the adventures with him?"

"Of course, I did," the dancer replied in high voice. It was always fun to travel around. Penelo had discovered many great places and learnt a lot on her way. "Only sometimes, y'know, Vaan was carried away and got himself into trouble."

Razzia nodded. She crossed her fingers, then pulled them free then crossed them again.

They walked in silence for a while before Penelo started to speak out. "Um... Razzia-sama," she said; Razzia jumped up a little. "I need to apologize. I doubted your feelings for Larsa-sama."

"That... you were right to doubt," the Lady replied with a gentle smile, "an odd request I have to ask you, if I may."

"Sure," Penelo agreed right away.

Razzia bit her lower lips. Her fingers crossed in a strong grip. She turned to look Penelo in her eyes, and slowly said: "Pray leave Dalmasca."

* * *

Vaan returned late today. He would come back sooner if it was possible as it was just another day at Migelo's shop. The old bangaa was walking back home with him. Penelo did not drop by the shop today. She was busy with her dance practice (she had been absent too much after all).

"I'm home," the sky pirate announced his return out loud.

"Migelo, Vaan," Penelo cried, "right timing!"

He felt right away there was something wrong. He looked around the front room. Still the same wooden floor and white-washed walls.

"Hey, Penelo, is it good now?" asked Kytes walking out of his room with a bag that almost as tall as himself and his wooden staffs tucked under his arm.

"No, Kytes," Penelo shook her head, "Galbana II has limited capacity. She can't hold all." Adding Kytes was already her limit, but Penelo will have to see it.

"Wait, what's with our airship?" grunted Vaan.

But before he got the answer, the door behind him opened and Razzia walked in confidently swaying a paper in front of her face. Her head was gelled and combed backwards in perfect round. She reminded him of Larsa badly except for the ponytail and the absence of the fringe.

"How's it?" asked Penelo standing up in anticipation of her.

"Ne'er fail you," the Lady replied and handed Penelo the paper in manner of a blesser, "you may leave whenever you deem fit."

"Perfect!" Penelo cried after reading their writ of transit, which, obviously, signed thank to Basch. "Now, Vaan, come here," she turned to Vaan, "check your luggage."

She packed the least that he would need: his Tulwar, little clothes to change and last but not least the gift gauntlets, but it was always good to let Vaan check again. While he was still staggered, she explained: "We leave tonight."

And Penelo meant it in every way. She had resigned from the theatre.

"For what?" he asked while Migelo was blinking at Penelo.

"For adventures, of course," Penelo said in a high-pitched voice. Vaan was looking into what considered to be his belongings coarsely.

"Kytes and Filo will go with us," she added and to Migelo apologized, "I'm sorry, Migelo. I'll write you as soon as I have change."

"Be troubled not. I'll take care for Migelo-san," Razzia said. Or he would take care for her.

"Thank you, Razzia-sama."

"'Tis what I should do," she replied. "We'll inform you once the circumstance improved."

"We gotta go. Filo must be waiting for us at the Aerodome," said Kytes.

Then they exchanged goodbyes. Migelo hugged Penelo before she grabbed his luggage and hers and made for the door with Kytes followed behind, gazing back the study with lament for books and tomes that he had to leave behind.

"Wait a second," Vaan said out loud. "I don't say I leave!"

The boy whirled around to look at him with wide eyes; the bangaa and the Lady, too, shifted their gaze to him. Penelo slowly turned back. She believed that Vaan would be happy to hear this, but it seemed not so. She stared at him with big and round eyes, dyed with dark, shiny honey-color. They were like begging for a reason.

"Why?" Kytes asked for her.

* * *

Archades — the Imperial city of Archadian Empire

The Imperial Palace

Judge Zargabaath was walking through the halls, ever-timid, not too dark nor too bright. The Emperor had just returned last night and today he had summoned him.

"What might his Excellency need of me?" he asked the fellow Judge, who was leading him into the office. No reply. "Do you know, Judge Hausen? Hausen?"

The Judge startled. Even the elder Judge himself was surprised, too, at both his deprival of concentration and sudden presence. It was typical for Gabranth to be his Excellency's escort and protector. Zargabaath thought of the rumor. If someone might know the truth beside Gabranth and his Excellency, it must be himself. He was in command of Alexander during the Sky Battle. Yet he felt being in total darkness. The Emperor was cautious.

"His Excellency will speak for himself," Hausen answered, eased him into the chamber. It was hard to perceive his expression or emotion through the Judge steel helmet, which covered the entire face. Zargabaath gave him a dry nod before putting his helmet with two long backwards horns on. The door closed behind him and he entered the Emperor's office.

The chamber was lit a little by the transparent glass walls. It was moody cloudy outside. The elder Judge followed the crimson carpet into center of the chamber. In front of him was a wide table and an empty seat. His child-emperor was standing behind the throne, admired the vermillion banner with black symbol of house Solidor hanged in middle of the glass wall. He looked even smaller against the tall back of the seat.

"Judge Zargabaath," Larsa smiled as he noticed the big figure of the Judge.

"You call me, my Lord," he bowed.

"Be easy," the young Emperor said, lifted up his long Emperor's robe with difficulty and seated himself on the throne, "I'd like to have an intimate conversation with you."

He rested his chin on the palm and added: "You must have heard what being said about Gabranth. Your judgment about that I want to hear."

"That, I believe, you must have your own judgment," he replied evasively.

"Indeed," he smiled, standing up and walking round the back of the throne, "but I do appreciate yours."

With his back turned to the Judge, Larsa walked along the edge of the wall. From here, the high city of Archades could be seen. Aircabs and small airships were winged back and forth the busy sky like any other days. "I'm also intrigued at what you had to tell our honorable Counsellor."

Zargabaath secretly gulped under his helmet. A sharp sting pierced his bone. This feeling... it was just what he sensed from the previous Emperor.

Quickly, he turned to the Judge. His deep blue gaze shot through eye cover of the helmet. "Let us be frank. Are you with me?"

The Judge found his lips was trembling. Larsa Solidor, his ending was decided. Lord Secretary of North Valendia, the eldest son of Lord Attacenn, schemed with Lord Deciputh. Yet why was he experiencing what he was feeling now?

The door suddenly slammed open. Heavy boots tramped on the carpet. He was a tall man in black armor with golden border and the helmet with signature halo decor.

"Lo, Larsa," he cheered and waved his hand at the Emperor, and he stopped as if to remember something, then added: "…your Excellency."

Larsa jumped back with shock, unable to believe how he could enter the Emperor's office without his permission. His back met the wall, his hand groped on soft fabric of the vermillion banner. "Why are you here? I'm talking to Judge Zargabaath," he found his voice at last and frowned at the uninvited presence.

"Judge Magister Alessain," he grunted word by word.

His gaze was sucked into two black holes of the eyes. Contrast to the lustrous halo, the face was covered by a deadly, skull-like mask, and hung on his belt were two eastern blades, long and sharp.


	29. III-2 Conspiracy

**3\. CONSPIRACY**

It was a rare Leo morning with clouds. It was even rarefied by a strange presence in the kitchen, namely, Razzia was fiddling around the kitchen in attempt to brew a pot of tea in a cloudy, mid-summer morning. Penelo was not in the mood for cooking today, and they easily understood it. Migelo brought some kebab sandwiches for breakfast, and Razzia made some tea.

"Fruity Grenada tea for better mood," the Lady whispered, slipping three spoons of tea into the teapot. There was a great section of tea in the cupboard. Most seemed new, purchased recently. _Larsa_, she sighed. Soon she strolled out of the kitchen with a silver tray, which consisted a teapot, cups and saucers and some cookies.

The outside was bustling. At the same time first ray of light struck Dalmasca, their visitor knocked the door. It was Basch, and obviously, he came for Vaan. They were having a conversation in his (and temporary Kytes') room. _How are they doing_, Razzia wondered, putting the tray down.

Penelo sat on a chair which was taken from the front room into Vaan's bedroom for Basch to sit, but he offered it to Penelo. It was the first time she seated herself on a chair in her partner's room.

Vaan was lounging on his messy nesting bed. Basch was just standing opposite to him. The sky pirate asked for a reason, so he came. "This is for both your and Lord Larsa's safety. We've been too careless on this matter," the 'Judge' explained.

"I don't see why," he replied.

"Someone might reach you for a proof of my identity," added Basch.

"And you think I'll betray ya?"

"That I do not, but if they reach you the wrong way," he said through gritted teeth. Closing their gap, he continued whispering close to Vaan's ear: "You're putting her and the others in danger." His eyes shifted quickly to Penelo, who was still even now looking at them with big, shiny eyes.

Vaan grunted. He could not find his old friend and comrade. Basch doubted his ability.

"Balthier and Fran agreed to leave. They should be departing in one or two days," added Basch.

"What?" Vaan said, almost shouted.

"Why, Vaan?" Penelo said something at last. The inner corners of her brows angled upwards. "You're always on the edge of your seat for adventures, are you not now?"

"I wanna fly but not like a fugitive!" Vaan shouted. It was a trap laid unraveling. It was why he had grown uneasy within Rabanastre. And now when everything finally got better, it sprang.

Vaan reclined on the bed head. His arm on his head; his eyes closed. He sighed deeply. But his mind could be no less hazy than it was. They killed Vayne, they stopped the War. Ashe ascended her throne, Larsa his. However, it did not come without cost. His brother was brought up to be the scapegoat for king-slaying frame-up, and Basch crawling in his brother's armor. He had endured it all. "I don't let him be the Emperor for this!" he exclaimed.

"You didn't let him," Basch countered. "His Excellency did it by his own, you understand?"

"And I'll do anything necessary to protect him," he added like a threat. Having realized his overreacting, Basch walked away. He breathed deeply, in and out. "I give you one day to consider it," said the 'Judge', and he turned to leave.

Razzia, with a saucer in one hand and a cup in the other, was standing against the wall next to the portiere in Vaan's room, grabbing a rudimentary grasp of their conversation. The 'Judge' bowed slightly as he passed the portiere, she nodded in reply.

"I've hoped that you had a stronger cause than that," she observed after Basch left.

"What're you gonna say, huh?" Vaan grunted. "Order me to leave in behalf of your fiancé?"

"It depends on you. I can't make you do if you don't," she said in her typical weird manner.

"But Razzia-sama, Dalmasca is good now, right?" Penelo looked at her with glassy eyes, "maybe we don't need to go."

They succeeded to convince the chancellor, and he would convince the others thus, to be in their side, but... "Soft, Penelo-san," she exclaimed, "you resigned from the theatre. Staying here serves your purpose no longer."

The dancer looked down her clasped hand like a guilty child. "As I've explained, Archadian 'patriots' might take advantage of the rumor. Although Larsa is not to fail, still you should consider leaving Dalmasca for your own sake," the Lady added, glancing at Vaan.

"Or for your beloved Larsa's sake," Vaan said dryly, "who might be in trouble if Basch's identity was found?"

"Larsa is. This might be declared as high treason. Archadia ne'er forgives betrayal. He might very well be on gallows as his brothers did."

Penelo agreed to leave right away as she heard these words at the theatre yesterday, yet it seem not so to him. _Ignorance is bliss_, she smirked at her own remark. "Let us say the opposition found you," she started to explain, feeling like telling it all, "and you refuse to cooperate. You aren't so naive and think you'll get away in one piece, are you?"

"Then what if you cooperate? Once your existences threaten his. Think of it, Mr. Vaan. If I were him, I'd eradicate you all, including your judge friend. Actually, he may have been cooking it already."

Then suddenly she added: "You don't think Larsa ascended the throne merely due to your good deeds of killing his brother?"

She stopped briefly for Vaan to think. Still his gaze was blank. Razzia shook her head. "I hope you've made the choice that is best for all," she added before leaving.

"Vaan," Penelo tried to persuade him in vain. He just gave no reply, pouting like someone stole his toys. "You should think about it," his partner said before following Razzia.

Vaan continued to sit still for a while. _Think about it_, how easy they said it. But why? Why must he think about it? Basch had to be Larsa's protector, Ashe the Queen. All was for the peace of Ivalice, Even Balthier and Fran prevented Bahamut to fall on Rabanastre before being missing. They all did something heroic while he...

Vaan curled up on his bed. Though he was somewhat famous now as a sky pirate, he felt just same three years ago. Still could not decide his life. He shook himself up, sitting up straight. His gaze darted across the room. The room was not much furnished; there were only a bed, a clothe chest, a bedside table and a hanging sword stand where he put his Talwar. Still crawling in the same cranny.

His gray-blue eyes halted on top of the table. There rested a wooden model of Dalmascan famous carrier—HMS Ophelia, and a glued vase. It was a black and turquoise clay vase. It was his gift for his brother. Vaan scrimped and saved (with Penelo's help) for the fancy vase. His brother so loved it that he always arranged it with Galbana lilies on the dining table. And that made it an unhappy witness of their last quarrel.

"Are you crazy?" Vaan recalled himself shouting and screaming. "It's over. We can't win!"

It was the day Reks told him that he enlisted; it was right at the end of the war.

"Nay, Vaan. We cannot know until we tried," his brother answered in soft voice.

"Try? How come Penelo's brothers for trying? They're dead!"

"They're just missing," Reks scolded, slightly pointing at Penelo's room. The girl might hear it from up there.

But Vaan seemed not mind it. He was too occupied with the thought of his brother, his only family left, gone forever. "It's just the same!"

Vaan of that day looked up, blinking his eyes, holding his angry tears. "You said you won't leave me," he shouted in broken voice. Reks was hugging him, saying that on the day their parent died. "You liar!" he screamed out on the top of his lung and swept his arm on the table, pushing all in their way to the ground. Luckily, most of them were metalware except for one; one that should not be there. Just a light shove to the vase, but it collapsed on the table. Lilies, water splashed on the creamy tablecloth. Then it rolled the very last run before falling out to the ground, and it broke. Shatters burst out like a flower, bloomed then faded.

Vaan could not look at the broken. He ran and hid himself in his room. He did not show even in the day Reks set forth. It was the last time they met.

The room seemed still unchanged from the day. He did brought with him some 'loot' from the adventures back to Dalmasca, and his sword and equipments also, but most of them was not worth-noting . The biggest change in his life was a slender ruby-red crystal in the length of a hair clip that he carefully put in the pocket on the back of his vest. Galbana II key. Still one had to ask for a writ of transit to fly. He threw the key on the table. It clanked on the vase but luckily, nothing broke.

_Damn, I have no more control of my life than I did three years ago._

Then he thought of Balthier. The sky pirate ever put his freedom over all.

_Balthier and Fran agreed to leave_. He recalled Basch's words.

He knew the sky pirate. Balthier would not give in. Never. Vaan stood up. He had a day. He had to be quick.

Penelo was so relieved when she saw he stepped of his room. From outside, she heard a big clink. But contrast to her caring eyes, Vaan just walked to the door, no look, no word, and left the house.

"Poh," Razzia sighed, throwing her arms to the sky.

Penelo still looked after his back. Her fingers involuntarily scratched on her upper leg while the door slammed behind.

* * *

As if Vaan walked into another world, the streets before their house were bustling with laughter and talking. Today sky was not clear; still it had a timid weather that encouraged people to go out of the door. He went straight then left, on the familiar route to the inn where the two sky pirates stayed. Soon before his eyes were on the wooden door of the inn, then the door of their room.

Balthier welcomed him with wide eyes. Vaan visited while they were packing the luggage or he said so.

"Don't tell me you really agreed to leave?" Vaan asked out loud right after the door was closed behind him, not much bothering about another man in the room, looking out the window.

"Didn't have many choices here," replied Balthier, sitting on the table.

Vaan crossed his arm. "The matter is not to go or to stay," his friend added, "but where. And I never agreed on where I go."

Vaan smirked. This rogue sky pirate always had a card up his sleeve, only that they were not sure if it was an ace. "Your plan?" he asked.

"The Imperial capital, Archades," Balthier replied quickly. Usually, he would not be so easy-going. That was if he did not have something to ask. He would find Vaan even if he did not show up himself. "But this time I don't intend to tread afoot. It'd take too long," he continued.

They had only two ways to Archades. On foot, or by air. "You don't say..." Vaan hesitated, "but why Archades?"

"That must start with our friend here," he replied, pointing his chin at pony-haired man standing by the window.

The man turned to them, fixing his cuffs. "Well," he paused. His deep hazel eyes scanned Vaan from top to toe, assessing. "Our boy has left the city."

"I knew," Vaan replied, "for Archades."

Mer, the Magicite hunter, glanced at his old friend, who was nodding slightly. "With an arcane Magicite. Like no Magicite or Nethicite I've seen in my life."

"Nor stone that I've seen," said Fran, strolling out from her communicating room.

The Viera was resting in her room when the mage boy came to meet Mernard with the stone, yet its existence woke her up. Its capacity was greater than any stone that Fran had seen.

"Even the Dawn Shard?" asked Vaan in high-pitched voice.

She nodded.

"He brought it back Archadia with him," added Balthier.

"But Archadian sky is always guarded," Vaan said, crossing his arms. His eyes moved from side to side.

"That's why we need her."

* * *

And her whereabout was his house.

Razzia was surprised to see Vaan return. She was sure that he had left for good. It grew into astonishment as Balthier, Fran and a stranger, whom she did not know, walked into the house, and almost dropped her jaw when Vaan announced they had something to discuss with her.

She looked around. It was only her and Penelo in the house now. "Say it," she replied. Her hand loosely grabbed the handle of the knife hung at her back.

"We wanted a writ of transit to Archadia," Vaan declared.

"What give you in exchange?" she asked straight forwards into the matter. Her hands relaxed and rest on her thighs.

Vaan shifted his gaze to Balthier, and Balthier to Mernard. "Well," the hunter gulped. His eyes shifted side to side like chasing a phantom hare. He never expected the boy's betrothed had such... character. Finally, he looked straight at the bright roses of her eyes, and said: "Your betrothed's life."

"I must say," she smiled, "it'd have convinced me better if you had said my life."

"You've heard of the Solis Ceremony of Soridol?"

"In mid of Leo, yes?" she replied, glancing at his sapphire earrings.

"The High Magister must present in the ceremony," he hinted. His fingers started to rotate in circles.

The Lady clasped her hand and rested her chin on them. "You're saying... an assassination?"

"W-What?" Penelo cried. She was back from the kitchen with teas for their guests and could not believe what she had just heard.

"Well, Larsa must have his own plan," she added. She was not an easy target as he had expected. But Mernard knew he got somewhere when her index finger toughed her ring.

"That is if his protector were with him," Balthier backed him up, "and everyone can tell how trustworthy Judges are?"

Razzia thought of Hausen and the glow in his eyes, and she had asked Gabranth to tell her if anything might happen. "Very well. But I have something to ask."

"Your accompany? No problem. Your presence is our safe ticket," observed Balthier.

"That's obvious," she replied with a slight frown, "I have something else to ask of you."

"What's it?" Vaan asked impatiently.

The Lady took a deep breath. "Kidnap me," she replied clearly word by word.

* * *

Penelo's hands were tremulous. Before her eyes was the great door of the Royal Palace.

"Goodness," she cried, hugging the big tome with green leather cover. The cold golden inlaid pressed hard onto her chest. She had been walking back and forth for a while, waiting the guard to be back after delivering her message to Basch.

"Oh, B—" she almost shouted his name when she saw Basch stomping out in his black, ringing armor with Ashe walking closely behind out of curiosity. Penelo bowed at the Queen. "Please, you have to see this," she said and handed him the tome with Solidor symbol.

It was his Lord's gift to Lady Razzia. He noticed right away a strange thin gap among the pages. The tome was opened and the letter, inserted in middle of it, was revealed. It was written coarsely with pencil.

"I think Vaan has gone nuts," Penelo exclaimed, still disbelieving at what happened.

"What?" Basch cried right after he finished the note, "he kidnapped Lady Razzia!?"

"Impossible," exclaimed Ashe.

And asked him to go to the Aerodome for more details of the 'ransom'. Something must have got into his head. Penelo did not know what to say. She had to hide her head under her hands, not even dare to look at her old comrades's faces.

"Don't worry," Basch patted on her shoulder, "I can persuade him to stop."

"I'll go with you," suggested Ashe, and Basch agreed.

The three proceeded to West Gate, where the Aerodome located. Quickly they were in dock 12 where the Strahl moored. A few soldiers, ones they trusted, were mobilized to surround the Aerodome, hiding. Nothing would escape.

"Stop there," crackled voice boasted from the airship said as Basch's boots touched the first step of the airstairs. It was buzzer, still they recognized it was Vaan's.

"Vaan," Ashe sighed, "you know what you're doing is serious crime, don't you?"

"You let me no choice. I don't wanna leave Dalmasca."

"What leave?" Ashe asked Basch in whispers.

"Vaan, it's for the best of us all," Basch shouted out at the airship.

"No, it's not. It's only for Larsa," said he angrily.

"Yes, Larsa," he added out of blue, "if it's for Larsa, let Larsa speak for himself."

"I'm his representative here in Dalmasca."

"No, I'll speak to Larsa himself. Don't think I'm stupid. You must have a way to contact him in emergency."

"Even in fastest transit, letters take a day to arrive," Basch replied, shaking his head. _God, what do you want?_ Such actions, it could not be Vaan's.

He paused briefly, "fine. I can wait."

Ashe threw her arms around. She did not know why but she felt terribly angry and wondered what wrong with him. "If words about her kidnapping spread around. Please think about it," she tried to hold her voice down.

"First, emerge yourself. We shall hear you speak," offered Basch.

"I'll have what I want. The Lady will wait even if she can't. You'd best be quick."

"Balthier, I can't wait. I have to leave!" he roared, at the edge of his patience.

Balthier was sitting calmly on his pilot seat while a slender figure emerge herself from the escaping door. "What happened to Larsa?" she asked, in her hand still holding the transmitter. It was Lady Razzia herself.

"Faram," cried Ashe furiously, "you fabricate your own kidnapping."

But the 'Princess' paid her no attention. "Tell me, Gabranth," she enquired, "why must you leave?"

The 'Judge' looked down, shaking his head, unable to believe what he had just slipped while Penelo was gazing at him both worriedly and guiltily. "I've lost contact to his Excellency," he admitted at last. The Lord had not replied his letter. It had been three days.

"What?" the Queen exclaimed. Even Ashe herself was left in the dark.

"Now, can we get our ticket?" finally Balthier made his appearance and said. Behind was Vaan crossing his arms.

"We shall fly along his fleet," she declared.

Ashe gave an exasperated sigh. Her head shook like a yellow leave in gust. "How dare you? All without permission."

"Well, you have seen what I might do if I don't have what I want," she said, glancing at the Queen. Today she dressed more formally and less revealingly.

"Arbitrarily promised in your betrothed's name, and now threatening." She was getting more dangerous day by day. Margrace, Margrace, what did they teach their children?

"Say no, if you wish," the 'Princess' hummed in her casual who-care manner.

"Will you let me?" Ashe gritted her teeth.

"I'm sorry, your Majesty," she said softly, "I meant to say if you can."

Ashe grunted, but she could give no counter, only could blame God for Larsa having to marry to such a woman.

Basch, too, could not get a word. He should have known that his Lord's choice was special, very special. "My Lady, the Leviathan II is this way," he gave in.

"I'll fly along her, but not in her," she replied, then turned to Vaan, she chirped, "Mr. Vaan, if I may be in your ship."

"Huh?" Vaan jumped up, "but Galbana II don't have enough place for three people."

"It's fine," Penelo said, secretly glimpsing at where the Leviathan II was, "um, I can board the Strahl or... Leviathan."

Often Razzia could not really understand what Penelo was thinking. Allow her partner to be with another girl. The course to Archades was not the longest, but definitely not short. It would take at least a day.

Nevertheless, it was settled with no objection. Razzia would be with Vaan in Galbana II; Balthier, Fran undoubtedly boarded in the Strahl with Mernard accompanied; Ashe and Basch in Leviathan with unexpected Penelo. And they set for Archades in the fastest course.

* * *

_Final Note:_

First of all, I want to thank you for taking your time reading my story. Unfortunately, my casual life has grown busier, and I don't have much time to write as I did. The story came out slower and slower, but I guess it doesn't really matter for more unfortunately, I don't think I have the knack of writing. My story is rather poor. A kind reader commented that it was unique, only uniqueness doesn't necessarily mean goodness. To anyone who has spent his/her precious time to read this fanfiction till this part, I really appreciate it. But I decide to stop it here. The plot developed too far from the origin (and too ridiculous I guess), so I think it's better to keep it for myself and continue as my own story (if I have the ability). Therefore, this fic drops here. Again thank you everyone for reading.


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